


Let's Get Together

by crossingwinter



Series: Let's Get Together [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe – Modern Setting, Dual POV, F/M, Parent Trap AU, Reylo Children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-11 12:14:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15315285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossingwinter/pseuds/crossingwinter
Summary: In which Padme Solo and Breha Johnson meet at summer camp, learn they are twins, and decide they do not accept their parents’ separation.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hipgrab (merrymegtargaryen)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymegtargaryen/gifts), [jeeno2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeeno2/gifts).



> Hello! So excited for you to stop by this fic and take a readthrough.
> 
> I had a conversation with a reader after I finished posting who was unaware that this fic is based off of two movies (both titled _The Parent Trap_. One came out in 1961 and the other in 1998.) I'm leaning heavily on both movies, but most specifically: there is some perspective knowledge that gets lost. Both movies are from the girls' POVs while this fic is from the parents'. This means that there are interactions, specifically involving a character who enters later in the fic, that might get lost because we aren't privvy to the girls' experience and, when writing the draft, I was assuming my reader would have seen one or both films. If you haven't--I think and hope you will still enjoy this fic! But this is to clarify that there's some ~~drama~~ that the parents aren't privvy to, and won't be, but which largely follows the interactions in both films.

“Clocking out early, Solo?” Hux asks as Ben heads to the elevator.  “Off to see the little lady?”

“Padme’s home from camp,” he clarifies.  Hux has been needling him constantly ever since he had mentioned that he was seeing Bazine.  _Ben Solo?  Established Bachelor?  With a paramour?_ Hux had laughed.  As if a single dad who lived with his mom constituted an established bachelor—but it certainly never hurt to let Hux have his fun.

“Give the girl my fond best wishes.”

“She doesn’t know you exist, Armitage.”

“All the more reason to give her my fond best wishes.”

“Are you drunk?”

“It’s past six.”

Ben shakes his head and makes his way to the elevator, pulling his phone out of his pocket. There’s a text message from Threepio there: _Our little princess is home safely,_ along with a selfie of the two of them at the airport.  Padme has cut her hair—not too short, but to her shoulders, and has pulled it back behind her ears in a half-ponytail.

“Fuck she looks like Rey,” he mutters to the empty elevator.  He had supposed it was only a matter of time.  But he’d hoped it wouldn’t be _quite_ this obvious as she got older.  Clearly that had been a naïve hope. 

 _Nothing about this situation isn’t naïve, Ben,_ his brain unhelpfully supplies in his mother’s voice.

He sighs, and shoots a text to Threepio saying that he’s about to grab a cab back uptown.

_I’ve ordered Chinese at Padme’s request.  Your usual._

Sometimes he feels ridiculous having people like Threepio and Artoo in his life.  It’s anachronistic.  A butler?  Really? But Threepio’s in his eighties—not that anyone would guess, looking at him.  He looks like he hasn’t aged a day since he was forty—and the idea of letting him go would probably give the old man a heart attack.  And of course, the idea of letting Artoo go was laughable. He’d probably reject the attempt to fire him and keep coming to work.

 _If you’d given notice about your schedule, we could have sent Artoo with the car,_ Threepio chides via text message.

Ben rolls his eyes. 

_Artoo got enough of an adventure driving out to JFK today._

_I’m sure he could handle midtown, sir._

_I’m already in the cab.  But I’ll remember to be more mindful in future._

He closes his eyes as the cab driver takes a left to take them over to Park Avenue.  The nice thing about Park is it’s almost always a smooth shot. He checks his watch.  It’s six thirty now.  He’ll be back by seven.  And Padme’s not tiny anymore, she can stay up late—will probably want to since her brain will still be in central time.  It’s not like she has school for another month.

He pulls the picture Threepio had sent over up on his phone again, and smiles down at it.

Apart from the jarring similarity to her mother—or at least, what her mother looked like ten years ago, the last time Ben saw her—she looks just like the Padme he’d put on the plane to Milwaukee in June.  A Padme who has a delighted look on her face, a Padme who is clearly excited to be home after seven weeks at camp, a Padme who is tanned and—and—

She pierced her ears.

His mom’s gonna throw a hissy fit about that.

 _Please don’t let it have gotten infected,_ he thinks.  _Or at least let mom be too pleased that you’re home to make a big deal out of it._

The cab pulls up in front of his building on Eighty-Nineth and Ben pops out, entering the overlarge courtyard of the building and taking the entrance right at the back. 

“Saw she’s back!” Mitaka grins as he opens the door for Ben.

“She is,” Ben nods, giving Mitaka a rare smile. 

He gets in the elevator and Thanisson presses the button taking him up to the eleventh floor without a word.  “She looks happy to be home,” Thanisson says after a moment.

“I hope so.  I’d hate to have to move out to _Wisconsin_ if she liked it too much.”  Thanisson chuckles.

Ben gets out and opens the front door, depositing his briefcase on the hall table.  The sound of sound stopping fills his ears—conversation that had been happily flowing that’s frozen and he hears light footsteps running down the marble hallways, and a moment later Padme is pelting her way into his midriff, her face buried in his chest. 

“Hey sweetheart,” he says, wrapping his arms around her.  “Welcome home.”

When she pulls away, her eyes are shining as though she’s going to cry tears of joy.  It does wonders for his ego—especially because he _knows_ that she’s going to be entering the terrifying teenaged years before he knows what’s happened to him.  But for now, that’s his little girl, shining up at him with her hazel eyes.  “Hi dad.” Her voice is breathy, excited, and she looks like she’d happily stare at him forever.

“Food here yet?” he asks, ruffling her hair.  He hopes this half-ponytail style isn’t permanent.  Maybe he can convince his mom to teach her how to do one of her fancy braided updos. 

“Not just yet,” his mom calls from the dining room.  “Padme was just telling us about camp.  Apparently she’s an archer now.”

“So if New York falls to a purge, you could catch us some pigeons.”

“You’d have to buy me a bow and arrow first, but—”

“Don’t go giving him ideas,” his mother interrupts.  “He spoils you as is.”

Padme grins and peeks up at him through her lashes, a little shyly. 

“I won’t go giving him ideas,” Padme says—oddly respectful.

Ben and his mom share a glance.  “Did they teach you obedience in that camp?” Leia asks.  “Because if so, that was definitely more than our money’s worth.” 

Padme rolls her eyes. “I’m just trying to be nice on my first day home.  I’ll make up for it later.”

“You’ve already started making up for it.  Don’t think I didn’t notice your ears, young lady.  Please tell me you at least used a sterile needle when doing that.”

“And if you didn’t,” Ben cuts in, “Please lie.  I don’t want bubbe having a heart attack and ending up in an early grave all because you decided to go and pierce your ears.”

“Sterile needle!” Padme says at once.  “I promise. All sterile.  Nothing dangerous at all.”

Leia gives Padme a shrewd look.  “Why don’t I believe you, little lady?  You’re going to need to lie smoother than that.”  She shakes her head and the phone from downstairs rings.  “Threepio, is that the food?”

“Yes, Mrs. Organa.”

“Thank god,” his mom says. “You—” she points to Padme, “get plates out before Threepio has a chance.”  Padme scurries off to the kitchen, her hair bouncing, so energetically does she move.  She glances at Ben.  “Good to have her home.”

“Yeah,” Ben says, his voice a little too thick to be casual.

“It was too _quiet_ this summer.  Hopefully she shakes this obedient nonsense.”

“I’m sure she’ll be back to normal soon enough.”

 

-

 

Rey gets to the airport early, cracks the windows, puts up the sun reflector in the windshield, and begins pacing her way up and down baggage claim.  Every time she passes the screens that show the arrival times of the flights, she checks in. _Chicago O’Hare, On Time._ That’s all she cares about.  On time.  On time and on it, Breha, probably brimming with joy about her time at camp.

Every phone call home had been so excited.  She was making friends.  She’d learned how to _fence_.  She had made presents for Finn and Rose and Poe in her arts and crafts sessions.  She missed home, but not _too_ much.  She wasn’t crying or anything.  But she did miss home.

Rey hadn’t wanted to send her girl off to camp—not so far away.  It had been Finn who had talked her into it.  _You can’t let your neuroses shape her too much.  This isn’t child abandonment.  Kids go to summer camp all the time._

She’d focused on that to sleep more easily at night.

 _Chicago O’Hare, Landed._   She checks for the carousel number.  She’d sent Breha off to camp with a huge duffle bag.  The camp had recommended getting a trunk, but that had seemed ridiculous, getting her a trunk that she’d never use just for a few weeks in Wisconsin. 

A few weeks that had dragged on forever.  The last time Rey had felt like seven weeks were taking that long had been right before Breha and Padme had been born. 

Her heart clenches.  

She _refuses_ to forget Padme, tiny and perfect in her arms. She knows that Padme’s safe, knows that she’s loved.  But that doesn’t stop her heart from twisting whenever she remembers the twin she’d given to Ben.

She checks her phone. She glances at the entryway from the secure area that her little girl is going to be coming through any second now. The carousel next to her starts turning and she knows it’ll be a few minutes yet before the bags make it onto it, but that’s a good sign.  The plane has landed, the bags are on their way and so is Breha.

People start spilling out of the entryway.  The ones with just carry-ons make their way towards ground transportation.  Some of them are greeted by family, others are not. Rey’s hands twist against her jean shorts. 

And there she is—Breha, with her dark hair and her long face—god has she always had Ben’s long face and Rey had never noticed it?—and she’s looking around for Rey.

“Breha!” she calls as she hurries over.

“Mom!” and her little girl is pelting towards her, and Rey kneels down to hug her, pulling her close to her chest and holding her tight.

“I missed you so much, sweetheart,” she tells her daughter, running her hand through her hair.

“I missed you too,” Breha tells her, squeezing her just as tightly.

It’s the first time in a long time that Breha doesn’t try to squirm away when she gets tired of hugging her mom.  Rey knows it won’t last.  When she pulls away, her daughter is beaming at her.  “Flight ok?” she asks, smoothing Breha’s hair.

Breha nods.  “No one was in the seat next to me so I could really spread out.”

“That’s wonderful,” Rey says.  She stands and frowns.  “You got taller.”

Breha looks down at her legs.  “Did I?”

“Yeah, you definitely did.” Rey’s tall, but Ben had been huge. It wouldn’t surprise her if her daughter cracked six feet before she was done with puberty.  Hopefully not for a little while though.  She knows girls go through puberty before boys, and she’s made sure that Breha’s never known what it is to be hungry, and so she’d always had good growth percentiles according to her pediatrician.  But still, she doesn’t _look_ as though her body is starting to change yet.  Just a little growth spurt.

“I made you something,” Breha says, dropping her backpack off her shoulders and opening it.  She digs around for a moment before pulling out a necklace of blue and red beads.  “Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” Rey manages tearfully.  “Help me put it on?”

She bends down and Breha clasps it around her neck, then gives her another hug. 

“I’m glad you’re back, sweetheart,” she says again.  “Now—you have to tell me everything.”

 

-

 

Breha is boisterous the second that they get home—more than she usually is.  She’s evidently excited to be home as she throws herself at Finn, who confirms Rey’s observation that Breha had grown at least an inch or two in the past seven weeks.  “Before long you’re gonna be taller than all of us,” Finn grins. 

“Just you wait,” Breha grins up at him.  “How’s the farm?”

“Look at her, asking after the farm,” Finn grins at Rey.  “Getting all consciences at camp, I see.”

“Can’t a girl ask after the family farm without too much being read into it?”

“Maybe, if a girl hadn’t spent the last six months complaining about weeding,” Finn laughs, pressing Breha’s nose.  “Come on, kiddo.  If you’re gonna ask, you’re gonna _work_.” 

“We’ll see about that!” Breha retorts as the two of them head out of the house towards the fields. 

Rey watches them go, watches them reach the berries, and watches Breha crouches down for strawberries. 

“Seems like camp was good,” Poe says from the kitchen.  Rey turns and makes her way over.  He’s cooking dinner already, a dishtowel thrown over his shoulder that he periodically wipes his hands on. 

Rey nods and picks up a knife and helps him dice for a few minutes. 

“She made it back safe,” Poe says as Rey cuts in silence.

“I know,” Rey says a little shaky.  “God I’m going to have to get used to this.  What’s it going to be like when she goes off to college?”

“Unless she takes after you and—”

“She’s going to college. She’s not going to make my mistakes. Not that she was a mistake.” Padme—Padme’s the mistake.  Rey’s heart still twists, every time.

She wants to hate Ben for Padme.  She really does.  But the truth is she can’t blame him for wanting one of their girls if she wanted the clean break.  Hating herself, though?  Oh, she can do that very well.

“She was the opposite of a mistake,” Poe says gently.  He’s watching her closely and Rey rolls her eyes.

“Will you all stop walking on eggshells around me?  I’m _fine_.”

“You are the opposite of fine,” Rose calls from the back porch.  Rey hears the hose running as Rose sprays herself in the face after working most of the afternoon in the sunshine as she does every day.  She hears Rose kick off her work shoes and a moment later she’s coming into the kitchen.  “Gonna shower,” she says as though she hasn’t done this every day for the past ten years.  “Mmm that smells good.”  She brushes past Rey and gives Poe a quick peck, then disappears into the bathroom that’s just next to the kitchen.

“Anyway, you’re not fine,” Rose calls through the door she’d left open.  “So yes, we’re gonna walk on eggshells.  And no, you’re not turning into your parents.”

Out from the field, Rey hears a delighted shriek and sees Finn chasing Breha, whose hands—even from a distance—have the distinct look of someone who’s been eating too many strawberries.  Some things never change.

Rey goes to the back door.

“Hey—stop snacking or else you won’t have any room for this lovely dinner Poe’s making for you!”

“That’s what I was telling her, but I got the classic ‘you’re not my mom.’”  Finn sounds thoroughly pleased with himself.  He always does.  Rey doesn’t fully understand _why_ they both get so excited whenever the situation calls for a ‘you’re not my mom.’ It doesn’t really matter.  What matters is that her daughter is giggling and Finn has an arm thrown around her shoulder and the two are making their way back to the house.

“What’s for dinner?” Breha asks as she pops onto a stool near the kitchen counter.  Finn heads in towards the bathroom, closing the door behind him to shower with Rose. 

“Your favorites,” Poe says.

“Cheeseburgers?” Breha asks brightly.

“Who are you and what have you done with Breha?” Poe teases. 

“I’m _joking,_ ” Breha replies at once.  “God you leave for two months and it’s like everyone forgets how to joke or something.”

“We were completely somber without you, mourning your absence daily,” Poe replies.  From the shower, Rey hears a sound that she does _not_ want Breha to hear and she kicks the door because Rose and Finn and Poe might have gotten a little less diligent since Breha was off at camp but she’s still a child and she’s home now.  The sound immediately stops, though she does hear some stifled laughter coming through the door.

Dinner is cheerful, and after dinner they all watch a movie together, Breha snuggled into Rey’s side as she’d done when she was a little girl.  Rey runs her hands over her daughter’s hair and tries to let herself relax.

She’s home.  Things will be back to normal soon.  She’s home. 

They brush their teeth together, and Rey tucks Breha into bed.

“I love you, mom.” Breha sounds almost shy when she says it, and a flush creeps up her cheeks.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” Rey tells her.  “I missed you, and I’m so glad you’re home.”

“I’m glad to be here,” Breha replies eagerly.

“Good.  That’s how home’s supposed to be,” Rey tells her, leaning forward and kissing her forehead.  “I never want you to be sad to be here.  Even if you’re leaving all your friends behind.”

“Mom.  That’s what the internet is for,” Breha says, rolling her eyes.

“In my day, uphill, both ways,” Rey laughs.  “Goodnight my love.”

“Goodnight mom.”

 

-

 

It’s like everything’s back to normal, now that Padme’s home.  He comes home to find his girl and his mother working on the crossword together, she sings in the shower just like she always has—a little tunelessly, but she’s got a very pretty voice.  She really should think about joining the middle school chorus this year.  She plays cards with Artoo and Threepio, and lies in the middle of the living room, reading books with pre-teen covers.

Things are normal, until she almost gives him a heart attack.

“Dad?” Padme asks. It’s shabbas, and his mother’s at shul, but Ben hasn’t gone to shul on Saturday mornings since he was a teenager, and he’s not going to start now, no matter what his mother says about providing a good routine for Padme as she gets ready for her bat mitzvah.

“Hm?” he asks, looking up from his laptop where he is reading the news.

“What was mom like?”

Yeah.  A heart attack.

Because he tries not to think about Rey.  It’s a technique he’d been trying with his therapist—instead of obsessing over the past, he should try and let it go.  Rey wasn’t coming back, no matter how much he’d loved her, no matter how much he wishes that she’d never left sometimes.  But being asked by his daughter to describe his ex-wife…presumably in a positive light…

“What’s brought this on?” he asks.  “You’ve never asked about her before.”

That’s not _entirely_ true.  She’s just mostly asked his mother, or so Leia has reported.  Padme had picked up very quickly that Ben doesn’t like talking about Rey because thinking about Rey hurts.  But apparently camp has changed her.

Padme rolls off her back so that she’s lying with her chin resting on her hands, her shins kicked up behind her.  “It’s just that sometimes, when a girl reaches a certain age, she starts to think about her mother is all.”

And then comes the second heart attack, because Ben knows that his eleven-year-old is going to be going through puberty _soon_ and he’s been emotionally preparing himself for having to do things like buy her her first pads and bras and all that stuff (because it feels like cowardice to leave that to his mother).

“Right,” he says. “Well—I know I’m not your mom, but we can talk about this.”  He can do this.  He’s pretty sure he’d read in some letter or other that sex-ed would be provided by the school sometime this year, but if the time is now, then the time is now. “We’ve always been able to talk about anything.”  They have. They really have.  Except Rey.  And sex feels like a big one to not talk to his daughter about—the sort of thing that’ll land her in a shrink’s office for feeling shamed by her dad or something.  He’s not going to do that to her.  He refuses. “When you get to be a certain age, your body—and boys’ bodies—they’ll start to—”

“Oh, god, dad, stop,” Padme says, making a face.  “I know all about sex already.”  He sags with relief, though he does tag for later that _all about_ because she’s too young to know _all about_ and is that something she’ll have gotten from camp? 

“Ok, ok,” he says, “But if you ever do want to talk about it—we can talk about it.  We can talk about anything.”

“I’m good,” Padme says, extremely flushed.  “No, I was just…no one’s ever really talked to me about falling in love before and—”

“Did you have a crush at camp?”

“Sort of,” Padme says. “But that’s not it, it’s more that—I just wanted to know more about mom.  Can you tell me more about mom?”

Ben takes a deep breath as he looks at his daughter.  His daughter, who looks more like Rey the older she gets.

“Your mom,” he says slowly, “was a wonderful woman.  Kind. Compassionate.  Brave.”  He falters and looks back down at his laptop.  “Anyway, that’s that.”

“Dad?”

He doesn’t look up. He’s trying to control his breathing.

“Do you miss her?”

Ben inhales and looks at Padme.  “Yeah, sometimes,” he says, “But I’ve got you, and that’s all I need, sweetheart.” Because that’s been his truth for years now.  And she’s getting to be the right age where she’ll hopefully understand it.

 

-

 

“These ones have orange scents in them,” Maz says, pressing her candles into Rey’s hands.  “I’m trying a different proportion from my old ones, so please let me know if they’re too strong.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Rey smiles. “I’ll try them out tonight and give you a call.”

“Wonderful!” Maz says as she makes her way along the stall, picking various vegetables between gnarled dark fingers.  “And how are you, kiddo?  Camp fun?” she asks when she reaches Breha at the register.  Breha’s always liked managing the register, taking people’s money and folding the bills neatly in the moneybox. 

Breha beams back at Maz. “It was great, Maz.”

“Good.  You make that necklace your mom’s wearing?”  Breha grins, and Maz nods approvingly.  “You got style, kiddo.  Should think of opening a jewelry stand here one day.”

There are a few jewelry sellers at the farmer’s market—nice ladies that Rey always gets something from when she can as gifts.  Breha’s first earrings had come from this farmer’s market, as had the rings that Poe, Finn, and Rose wear in an unofficial “we’re for life” capacity. 

“Is that my girl?” comes a voice and a moment later Breha is squealing with delight and pelting towards a tall, pale red-head who Rey prays remembered to put on sunscreen this morning because he’s looking less tanned than usual.

“Hi BB,” Rey calls. 

“Rey my dear,” BB says as he approaches, giving Rey air kisses on each cheek.  “I will take your finest vegetables.”

Rey laughs and hands him her sunscreen.  “For my peace of mind.”

“Your peace of mind? I’m going for a look right now,” BB says.  Then he winks down at Breha.  “The glitter shines better when I’m not super tan.”

“Really?  I’d think it’d be the opposite,” Breha says.

“How would you know? You’ve never come to one of my shows.”

“Only because mom says I’m too young.”

BB feigns horror and looks at Rey.  “Too young?”

“ _The Magic Eight Ball_ doesn’t let anyone in under twenty-one, BB.  Take it up with your manager.”

“I will,” BB says, still feigning shock and horror.  He looks down at Breha.  “Soon, my dear.  I’ll sneak you in if necessary.”

Breha grins up at him and he pinches her cheek.  “She gets _cuter_ every time I see her, I swear.  I want two of her.”

Rey glances at Breha who is still smiling up at BB, a look of determination on her face.  BB is a friend of Poe’s from way back, but she hadn’t met him until long after she’d split with Ben.  BB doesn’t know about Padme, doesn’t know how that comment sits with Rey.

“Good thing we’re improving cloning technology.  Only a matter of time before human clones, right?” Breha asks, and BB gives her another bright smile as he pays for his veggies and disappears.

The market is full of people today, and it’s not long before they run through their stock and begin loading up the back of the pick-up. 

As they’re driving back to the farm, Rey notices Breha biting her nails.

“What’s going on?” she asks. “You only ever bite your nails when you’re nervous.”

“You noticed!” Breha sounds thoroughly pleased by this before saying, “Oh.  Uh.  Well. It’s…”

“Yes?”

“What was he like?  My dad?”

Rey stares at the road for a moment.  “He was nice. Good.  Why?”

“Oh I just—I was wondering how you knew you were in love with him?” 

Rey swallows.

She remembers distinctly the moment she’d realized she was in love with Ben, when he’d held her while she’d cried about her parents and then taken her out for ice cream, not letting go of her hand the whole time.  She’d felt safe with him, had trusted him, had felt warm with him, and when he’d kissed her goodbye that night, she could still taste the pistachio ice cream on his lips.

“Sorry,” Breha says through Rey’s reverie. “I shouldn’t have said anything.  I didn’t want to bring it up in case it was painful but—”

“It’s not painful,” Rey cuts her off.  Padme is painful.  But Ben…She just feels guilty about Ben.  _I could have ended it a different way, at least,_ she thinks, remembering the look on his face when she’d closed the door on him. “I did love him.  But that’s not how it is anymore.”

“How’d you know you were in love with him?” Breha asks again.

“I don’t know, I just…knew. Love’s tricky and not always logical, and it was both of those things with your dad.  Why—did you have a crush this summer?”

Breha gives her a smile and in that moment Rey knows that her daughter is lying.  “Yeah.  Sort of. I just wanted to know if it was real love or just the…the onset of puberty or something.”

Rey laughs.  “You sound like Rose.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not even a little,” she replies.  “Oh, sweetie. Don’t worry.  You’re too young to be in love—that’s for sure.  And when you get older, we’ll talk more about it.  You should think about how it hits you, not how it hit me once a long time ago, ok?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My D&D session got cancelled for tonight so here have a slightly-earlier-than-planned update!

Ben picks up his phone on the second ring. “Hey babe,” Bazine purrs at him. “Dinner tonight?”

“Can I get a rain check? I promised Padme I’d be home for dinner.” She’s still so excited to see him. She’d positively beamed at him when she’d seen him at breakfast this morning. What she was doing up that early when she didn’t have school—he had no idea, but there she’d been, watching him drink his coffee and slowly turn into a person because _he_ sure as fuck wasn’t up at six thirty because he wanted to be.

“But I want to show you off to all my friends,” Bazine protests. “Don’t you think it’s time, Ben? They’re starting to think I made you up. My hot shot lawyer boyfriend who lives on Park Avenue.”

“I’d hardly call myself a hot shot,” Ben says dryly.

“Oh you,” Bazine says and he can practically see her waving her hand as though he’s joking. “Always so modest. You and I both know you’re a star.” The way she says that last word makes his heart pulse a little faster. That’s one of the things that he likes about Bazine. She’s always saying things like that, making him feel good about himself, making him feel less like the colossal fuck-up who let the love of his—no he doesn’t use that phrase anymore. That phrase doesn’t allow for him to frame his future in his terms. He’s been over this with his therapist.

Bazine has kept talking during that little trip down regression lane, though, and she’s already talking about how Grumm’s dying to meet him, and how it’s Grumm’s birthday and please, please, please, can’t he put his daughter aside for just one night. “I know she’s the most important thing in your life, but couldn’t you make one tiny rain check for her instead?” She’s made her voice all breathy the way she does right after he’s kissed her.

He swallows.

“She really just got back,” Ben says. “And I don’t know how long it’s going to be before she realizes that hanging out with her dad isn’t as cool as she thinks it is.”

“I know, Ben, but live a little. It’s your life.”

“Another time. I do want to meet your friends.” As he says it, his stomach twists. Big steps. Bringing them into one another’s circles. “And—and I’d love for you to come over sometime and meet my mom and Padme.”

“I’d love to,” Bazine says without hesitation.

“Really?” Something about how quickly she says it startles him. He’s not sure why. “Because that’s a big step.”

“I’m ready for big steps,” Bazine says firmly. “You’ll seem to recall my saying that I _like_ you, Ben Solo, and I’m not going anywhere any time soon.”

“Yes, I seem to recall that,” Ben replies, biting back a smile. He’d replied saying that it had been a long time—not since Rey—that he’d dated anyone, and he wanted to go slow. _Only if I get what I want in the end,_ Bazine had replied, her fingers climbing his chest to rest over his heart.

Not that their relationship is exactly what Ben would call taking it slow. They’d only been together for about six months, and they’d only really gotten serious when Padme had gone off to camp and Ben’s evenings had been suddenly, jarringly wide open, and Bazine had been only too thrilled to fill them. “Tomorrow night? I haven’t told Padme about you yet, so I need to ease her into that.”

“What’s to ease? You said she wanted a mom.”

“Just because she wants a mom doesn’t mean I can just drop you in on her unannounced. That’s a recipe for disaster.”

“You sure about that?”

“She’s my kid, Baz.” He can only imagine what he’d have been like in that situation. Granted, he had been a significantly more difficult child than Padme is, as his mother is so fond of reminding him.

“All right, all right. Tomorrow. But let’s talk tonight. I miss you, Ben.”

“I saw you on Monday,” he says, smiling. He can’t help it. There’s something so wonderful about someone actually _wanting_ to talk to him, wanting to spend time with him. Christ, he needs friends. Maybe when Padme’s in high school and a little more self-sufficient.

“And I want to see you every day,” Bazine replies easily. “Looking forward to tomorrow.”

Ben had expected Padme tease him about finally— _finally_ —having a girlfriend. He had expected his daughter to ask him about Bazine, especially after all that business the other day about how at a certain age there’s just some things a girl wants a mother for. At worst, he expected her to say that she didn’t like the idea of him dating.

For the first time in his life, Ben understands just how lucky he is with Padme most of the time.

Because she fucking flips a shit.

“You _what?_ ” she practically shrieks.

“Padme!” Leia says, astonished.

“You’ve gone and gotten yourself a girlfriend? What the _hell!_ ”

“Hey—language, young lady.”

And then she bursts into _Spanish_ of all things, and starts a stream of what is probably violent vitriol that Ben can’t understand even a little bit of as she paces back and forth through the living room.

“When did you learn Spanish?” Ben asks her, grabbing her wrist. It’s the contact, more than his words, that makes her stop.

“Uhhhh—camp.”

“Picked that up faster than the French you’ve been studying for two years,” Leia says dryly.

“I had a good teacher,” Padme says quickly. “Dad,” she turns back to Ben. “Dad—really? A _girlfriend?_ ” She looks like she’s going to cry.

“Hey—you’re still my best girl,” he says, opening his arms to give her a hug.

“It’s going to ruin _everything_ ,” Padme bursts into tears and whirls about and runs for her bedroom, slamming the door very loudly before Ben even knows what to do. He turns to his mom.

“What did I do wrong?” he asks. “Should I have told her sooner, or—”

Leia shakes her head. “I don’t think you could have handled it better. She might just be turning into a teenager.”

“That’s not allowed until her bat mitzvah and that’s still two years away,” Ben grumbles, throwing himself onto the couch. He and his mom joke about how sometimes Padme can be a stubborn piece of work—but she’s never thrown a temper tantrum like this before. Not ever. “This is what I was like all the time?”

“She didn’t break anything,” Leia says. He watches his mother hesitate. “I’m happy for you. The whole situation with Rey did a number on you, and you’re overdue moving on.” She’d known he was seeing someone, of course, but hadn’t known how serious it was getting. But even she can read the signs when he wants to introduce his girlfriend to his daughter.

“Thanks mom,” he says quietly. He knows that’s a concession on her part. He knows that his mother had hated how things had ended with Rey, and the compromise that they’d come up with for moving forward. _You name them after my mothers, and then you have the_ audacity _to take one away from me?_

Sometimes Ben thinks he made the wrong choice, not trying to—well it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s ages ago. And right now, he’s very glad that he doesn’t have to deal with an angry Breha on top of an angry Padme.

Ben presses the heel of his hands into his eye sockets until colorful stars fill his vision. “Do I give her space or—”

“Let me go talk to her.” There’s something in his mother’s voice that makes him look over at her. He can’t tell if it’s a _a woman’s touch might be better right now_ or a _bubbe will fix everything_ or just…his mom. His mom had always managed to be able to calm him down—at least until he’d gone to high school and the hormones had really set in.

Ben nods, and his mom disappears. Down the hall, he hears her knocking on Padme’s door and saying, quietly, “Sweetheart, can I come in?”

Ben pulls out his phone and shoots a text to Bazine.

_I’ll keep you posted about tomorrow. Padme didn’t take it nearly as well as I expected._

_Is she being a brat about it? Doesn’t want to share her dad?_

He frowns and stares at the words. Yes, Padme is being a bit of a brat, but Bazine hasn’t even met her yet. But before he can think of a way to respond, he sees her typing again and the next message flashes across his screen.

_Maybe putting my face to the experience will help._

_I’ll keep you posted._

His mom is in the room for a very, very, _very_ long time. Ben tries to focus on a memo he should be preparing, but when hour two passes and she still hasn’t emerged, the _I fucked up_ train fully leaves the station and he texts Bazine again.

_Not tomorrow. Sorry. I’ll let you know when works._

He flips his phone over so that he can’t see her response when it comes in, because he’s sure she’ll be disappointed—possibly even angry since he blew her off tonight—and he doesn’t think he can deal with that on top of Padme probably deciding she hates him.

Does Rey ever have to deal with this? Does Breha act out?

He imagines Rey with some guy with his arm wrapped around her, and Breha—who looks exactly like Padme—beaming up at her would-be father.

He’s never heard from Rey if she got remarried, if she even dated anyone. Given how things ended, he’d be surprised if she’d gotten back on the horse quickly, but then again, Rey had always managed to take him by surprise.

Some part of him hopes that she isn’t dating anyone, though. Not because he doesn’t want her to be happy—he does. He really does.

He sighs.

He knows _exactly_ why he doesn’t want Rey dating anyone. It’s the same reason that a clean break is good, and Bazine is _progress_ for him. Because he needs to get over it. He needs to. It’s been over ten years.

It’s nearly ten o’clock when his mother comes out of Padme’s room, Padme behind her.

“Sorry for freaking out earlier,” Padme says. “I’d like to meet her sometime. Maybe not tomorrow though?”

“I already cancelled it,” Ben says. He holds out his arms again and she gives him a hug. “Love you.”

“I love you, dad,” Padme says. She’s quivering a little bit in his arms.

“It’ll be ok. You’re going to like her. I know you are.”

“I’ll try,” Padme says into his neck and Ben glances at his mom. She raises her hands as if to say _I tried_ , though her eyes say something else entirely. They’re positively _glittering_ , and oddly—a little red, as though she’s been crying too.

 

-

 

The phone rings in the middle of dinner and Finn gets to his feet to pick it up. “Hello?” A moment later he’s hanging up.

“Telemarketers?” Rose asks.

“Nah. The line went dead. Probably a wrong—” but it’s ringing again.

“I got it!” Breha says with an excitement Rey has not seen since she was four and starting to answer the phone. She grabs the headset. “Hello?”

A moment later she’s gone off to the living room.

“Camp friend,” Finn shrugs. “Probably got freaked out when I picked up.”

“Not in the middle of—” Rey calls after her daughter, before heaving a sigh, and looking back at Finn, Poe, and Rose. “dinner. This is about to get real, isn’t it?”

“Sure is. When are you updating her plan so she can actually get calls so she can turn into a real adolescent?”

“For the start of the year, ok?” Rey sighs. “She doesn’t _need_ it yet, right?”

They hear Breha climb the stairs and Poe leans forward, frowning. “Has she been a little…strange? Lately?”

“No stranger than usual,” Rose replies. “Why?”

“When she was helping at the farmer’s market this morning—it was like she’d forgotten all her Spanish. Aren’t kids supposed to be better at languages than adults?”

“Maybe the camp brainwashed her,” Rose teases.

“Yeah—but you don’t just _lose_ a language like that,” Poe says. He looks at Finn for help. “I’m worried about her. Is that something we take her to a shrink for or something?”

“She has seemed a little more—”

“ _What?_ ” They hear Breha shrieking from upstairs.

“Robust, lately,” Finn says.

“Everything ok, sweetie?” Rey calls.

“ _No! No! No! He can’t do that!_ ”

Rey gets to her feet and is climbing the stairs two at a time. She knocks on the door to Breha’s room and hears her daughter fall silent.

“What’s going on?” Rey demands. “What’s so important that you’re leaving in the middle of dinner and shrieking like that?”

Breha opens the door. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are shining and she looks very upset. She stares at Rey for a moment then says, into the phone. “I’ll call you back,” and hangs up. Then she’s wrapping her arms around Rey, pressing her head into Rey’s chest.

“Hey—what’s going on?” Rey asks. “What’s happening sweetie. Who’s upsetting you?”

Breha just shakes her head against Rey’s chest. “No, it’s not supposed to—” her daughter is shaking and Rey keeps stroking her hair.

“What is it? Please tell me,” she murmurs. “Let me help you.”

“You’ll hate me,” Breha mumbles.

“I could never,” Rey says, laughing. “Sweetheart, you could murder someone and I’d help you bury the body. Though please don’t murder someone, I don’t want to go to jail for aiding in that.”

“You will, you’ll hate me.”

“Breha—”

“I’m not Breha. I’m Padme.”

Rey stares at Breha. Stares at her because that’s not even a _little_ bit funny and Finn had promised he wouldn’t say a single word about it, not one single word—it is Rey’s to tell, not Finn’s. And this is some horrible joke, and she opens her mouth to tell Breha just that.

Except that Breha’s staring up at her and her eyes are bright with tears and her lips are quivering and she’s forgotten all her Spanish.

Rey’s entire body stops. It just stops. She stops hearing things, smelling things, she stops seeing things. The only thing she feels is the thumping of her own heart, and the thumping of—of—

 _Padme_.

She sinks to her knees and stares at—her daughter. This is her daughter. The one she’d barely known for a few weeks before she’d given her to Ben. The one she’d left behind. The one she’d given away. The one she’d—

“I’m sorry,” Padme’s crying and it’s only when Padme’s crying that Rey realizes that _she’s_ crying. “I just wanted to see you so badly. And we switched places because she wanted to meet dad and—”

“Padme,” Rey breathes tremulously and she pulls her daughter back into her arms. “Hi, baby. Hi.”

“Hi mom,” Padme sobs, and Rey kisses each of her cheeks, and brushes away her tears.

“You have— _nothing_ to be sorry about,” she manages. “Nothing at all. _I’m_ the one who should be sorry.”

“Breha said you’d say that. And she also said to tell you that you shouldn’t be.”

But far from comforting her, that makes Rey cry even harder as she squeezes Padme. Her little girl—her little girls, both of them. She loves them so much. So so much. How had she ever agreed to this? How can she ever go back, now that she’s met Padme? Now that she’s held her in her arms again for the first time since she was an infant?

“Was that Breha? On the phone?”

“Yeah,” Padme says. “She called to tell me—with news.”

“Does Ben—” Rey pauses. She can’t remember the last time she said Ben’s name out loud. It feels odd in her mouth. She pushes on. “Does your dad know? Is that what she was calling about?”

“No, but bubbe—grandma—worked it out.”

Rey gives Padme a watery smile. “Of course she did. Your bubbe’s sharp as a tack.” She remembers Leia right when everything was falling apart, shrewd eyes, kind heart, telling them they were stupid. _We were,_ Rey thinks fiercely as she looks at Padme again. She doesn’t know Padme, but she loves her. Loves her with all her heart.

“Bubbe’s saying we have to switch back,” Padme says.

Rey sighs and closes her eyes, her heart twisting in nineteen different ways. Obviously she wants Breha to come home. Breha should come home. But what if Breha wants to stay in New York with Ben? And what about Padme? She doesn’t want to lose Padme now that she’s got her again?

“Let’s—let me give your bubbe a call,” Rey says, wishing she felt as brave as she sounds. She sounds like nothing could bring her down. She knows from experience how quickly Leia Organa can disarm her. “Will you dial for me?”

Padme nods, does so, and hands Rey the landline. Rey gets to her feet again, kisses the top of Padme’s head and goes into her bedroom. “Go finish your dinner,” she says as the other end of the line rings.

“Hello?”

“Hi Breha.”

“Hi,” Breha says at once. “Mom—I’m so sorry. I know it was a silly idea, I know but—”

“I’m not mad, sweetheart. Are you safe?”

“Yes. Everything’s been really good here.”

“All right, that’s all I care about. Can you put—put your grandmother on?”

A moment later, she hears a voice from the past.

“Hello Rey.”

“Leia—hi.” She doesn’t know what to say. She hadn’t thought this through. She hadn’t thought anything through.

“I think you should come to New York,” Leia says and a rush of relief floods her. She’d liked Leia for many reasons, not least of which was that she _always_ had a plan for everything. “You and Padme. I imagine they’ll want to spend some time together again before the school year starts and you and Ben may want to revisit the terms of your divorce.”

Rey swallows. The words are light, but they cut hard. Leia had hated that they were getting divorced. She’d thought they’d rushed into things—and hadn’t been wrong—but to split up so soon after the twins were born?

“I can pay for your flights—I know last minute bookings from Santa Fe aren’t cheap.”

“I can look for hotels tonight,” Rey says, but Leia cuts her off.

“Nonsense,” she says. “You’ll stay with us.”

“Will Ben be ok with that? Padme says he doesn’t know yet.”

“He’ll be ok with it or else he and I are going to have strong words about all this,” Leia grumbles. “It’s a bit late. Email me your travel details so I can get your tickets done before you wake up tomorrow. My email’s the same as it was.”

“Leia,” Rey interrupts, thoroughly aware that she is being thoroughly steamrolled by her ex-mother-in-law.

“Hm?”

“This is too generous.”

“It’s too selfish is what it is. You think I don’t want both girls here at the same time? I have always made my thoughts on the matter clear and that hasn’t changed.”

“I know,” Rey says, “But all the same—”

“All the same,” Leia sighs. “I’ll talk to you soon. Flights probably for the day after tomorrow or soon thereafter. Here’s Breha.”

“Hi mom,” Breha says a little breathless. “You’re coming?”

“I am,” Rey says. “Grandma’s covering the details. I’ll see you soon.”

“Love you,” Breha says, sounding not quite relieved. She sounds too excited to be relieved.

 

-

 

Ben’s reading through the headlines when his mother comes into the kitchen. “Artoo’s going to pick up Padme from the airport tomorrow.”

Ben looks up from his computer. It’s a _rare_ day that his mother’s out of bed before eleven, much less at six thirty, but now she’s losing her mind. He’s going to have to start looking up old age homes for her, isn’t he?

“Padme?”

“Padme.”

He points across the kitchen table to where Padme is currently sitting, munching on some toast. “Padme?”

“Breha.”

His head snaps to Padme who is still eating, looking a little timid.

“Hi dad,” Padme says a little breathily. Too breathily. Padme is very good at pulling practical jokes and pranks and the like at this point, but never once has she spoken this breathily in the middle of—in the middle of—

Ben takes a sip of coffee.

Oh, he’s an idiot. The earrings. The _Spanish_.

God she looks like Rey. Maybe it’s because she’s got a lot more of Rey in her because Rey had raised her.

“Hi Breha,” he says, his voice a little weak. He reaches out a hand to cup her cheek and she smiles at him nervously.

“Are you mad?” she asks.

Maybe once he would have been. He would have flipped this table—breakfast, coffee, and all—and stormed around the room. But years of therapy and the fact that—that—that—

“Breha,” he breathes again. He thinks he might cry. The last time he saw her, he could hold her in one hand. She’d been tiny, and red-faced and perfect with a thatch of dark hair and Rey’s beautiful eyes. And here she is now—dark haired, and hazel eyed and his little girl.

He pulls her into his arms and rocks back and forth with her as though she were still his baby. She is still his baby. Just a little bit bigger is all.

“Anyway, Artoo’s picking up Padme tomorrow, and I know you’d wanted to have your girlfriend over for dinner, but this might not be the right time.”

No, it’s definitely not the right time. “I’ll text her,” Ben says. He looks back at Breha, and all words stop working in his head.

He can’t focus at work all day, knows he’s useless in meetings. Hux tells him he needs to get his shit together, but far from rankling, Ben barely even notices.

It’s not until he’s wrapping up for the day—calling it quits early because god only knows that he doesn’t have the brain power to pretend to work past five today—that he remembers to text Bazine.

_Dinner tomorrow night can’t work._

_Do you have time to talk now? I’d rather explain over the phone._

_Are you breaking up with me?_

_No. It’s…complicated._

She calls immediately and Ben goes to close his office door.

“What’s going on?” she demands angrily. “I’m used to being jerked around by twenty-somethings who don’t know what they want, Ben, not by _you_. I don’t like it. I don’t deserve it.”

“It’s Padme,” he says.

“She doesn’t like me.”

“No—she doesn’t know you exist.”

“What?” He can practically hear her eyes narrow at that, and he springs into an explanation before she can get angrier.

“It’s complicated. Padme has an identical twin—my ex-wife and I, as terms of our divorce, each got one twin. They seem to have met at camp completely by coincidence and switched places as a joke or something. So Padme’s coming home tomorrow and I have to figure out how to get—”

How to get Breha back to Rey.

He hates that thought the moment it crosses his mind. _This was your dumb idea,_ that part of his mind that speaks with his mother’s voice intones an _extremely_ sing-songy _I told you so_ sort of way.

“Sorry—what was I saying?”

“That your twin daughters switched places. You know, Ben, if I were anyone else I’d say you were lying just to get rid of me and if _you_ were anyone else, I’d think it was outrageous. Maybe I can come over before—what’s the one you have with you now called?”

“Breha.”

“Breha leaves so I can meet both of them.”

“That would be really nice,” Ben says, and he can feel some of the tension leave his body. “Or—”

“Or?”

“If I can swing it…I’d love to bring both of them upstate to my uncle’s cabin in the Adirondacks. Maybe you could come up with us. Padme and I usually go up Labor Day Weekend, but if Breha’s here…”

“I didn’t know you had a cabin in the Adirondacks,” Bazine says, all delight now.

“My uncle does,” Ben corrects her.

“Oh but that’s so _charming_. So lovely. I’d love to check it out. Let me know when you have the details sorted out!” Bazine sounds like she can’t decide if she wants to purr it at him or squeal with excitement.

“I will,” he tells her, relieved that she’s excited. He and Luke—well, they have their issues. But it’s good to know that Bazine likes the idea of going out to the country every now and then. New Yorkers can be so stupid sometimes about leaving the confines of the city.

If Ben leaves early that day, the next he can’t manage. It’s not for lack of trying—it’s really not. But Hux and Phasma corner him about some the Starkiller deal and before he knows it, it’s seven PM and he has a text from Artoo that reads

_I know that you are important and all that, but your daughter is waiting for you and I am downstairs._

Which is about as terrified as he’s ever been in his life because god only knows what Artoo will do if Ben doesn’t show up immediately, so he figures out a way out of the meeting he’s in and finds himself in the town car within ten minutes.

“How is she?” he asks Artoo. There’d been no selfie from Threepio at the airport—probably because he’d felt ashamed of not having realized that Padme was in fact Breha.

“All fingers and toes accounted for,” Artoo shrugs. Which isn’t quite enough an answer to the question that Ben had asked, so he texts his mom.

_In the car. How’s Padme?_

_Happy to be home. Very tan. See you soon._

Ben ignores the curious looks from Mitaka and Thanisson on his way into the building, and when he unlocks the apartment door and makes his way into the living room, he sees both of them sitting there with his mother.

“This is Finn—did you know Finn?” whichever one is holding the phone asks.

“We met briefly,” his mother replies.

“He’s wonderful. He cried for about an hour when mom told him the truth.” It’s a punch to the gut—that one little word. _Mom_. God this is all so weird. “And he says he’s never once wanted to come to New York but he will just to visit me now, can he stay here when he does, bubbe?”

“Of course he can, sweetheart,” Leia says and Ben’s sure she means every word.

“Hi dad!” He assumes Breha says happily—the slightly less tan of the two.

“Hi!” He assumes Padme says as well. They both beam at him. He almost gets dizzy at the sight of it.

“Which one’s which,” he says, only half joking as he points between them.

“Padme,” Padme says.

“For real this time?”

“Yeah,” she grins and yeah—he sees that twinkle in her eye. He gives her a hug, kisses the top of her head. “Ok, I’m going to change,” he says. “What’s dinner?”

“In the oven.”

“In the—” Ben stares. Threepio sometimes cooks, but Artoo had mentioned in the car that Threepio had been feeling unwell that afternoon. His mother _certainly_ never cooks. Even when he’d been sick as a kid, she’d gone out to the deli for soup.

“Go change,” his mother says and there’s a—nope he doesn’t trust that mischievous twinkle in her eye. Not even a little bit. _That’s where they got it,_ he thinks, perhaps a little more direly than necessary. _From her._

It’s right as he’s passing the bathroom that the door opens and—

He can’t remember the last time he’d collided with someone, much less his naked ex-wife whose towel—god that’s her breasts and—yup that was a glimpse of her pubic hair as she yells in surprise and loses grip on the towel.

She’s panting in surprise as she clutches the towel to the front of her body, leaving the back—oh god her back’s got to be completely exposed behind her, even if Ben can’t see it.

“Sorry,” she says breathlessly. “You startled me.”

He can’t help but stare at her. It’s like his brain has gone completely numb.

Because Rey is here.

Of course Rey is here. Why wouldn’t Rey be here?

He drinks her in. She’s older looking than she had been when he’d last seen her. Her face is fuller, her hair longer, her skin tanner, her eyes—they’re glowing exactly the same way they always did, and her lips—

“Sorry,” Ben says. “Didn’t realize you were—” here? More beautiful than he remembered? Naked in his apartment? “Hi.”

“Hi,” Rey says, a little breathily. She’s gotten her towel more squarely around her middle now. Her hair is wet and dripping down her shoulder. She’d never been like his mother with her two-towel solution—one for hair and one for body. She’d always let her hair drip dry.

“I’ll let you—”

“Yes, thank you—”

And Rey passes him and Ben goes into his room, closes the door, takes off his jacket and drops face first onto his bed, groaning into the mattress springs.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out [this graphic rileybabe made](https://rileybabe.tumblr.com/post/176192799034/reylo-modern-au-edit-for-lets-get-together-by)!!!! It's so beautiful!!!!
> 
> I'm so glad you all are enjoying this fic. Hope you like this next chapter <3

Flashing her ex-husband is not exactly how Rey had planned to see Ben for the first time in more than ten years.

She’d spent the entire day running through what she would say in her mind. _Couldn’t make this shit up,_ with a grin; _good to see you,_ haughty and detached; _was this a mistake it feels like a mistake now that I’ve held Padme in her arms—_ definitely not this last one. _Definitely_ not, because she has some pride left. Even if, sitting next to her daughter on the flight to JFK, it feels like the most honest.

 _Sorry, you startled me,_ while half-naked—not that Ben hasn’t seen any of it, but he hasn’t seen it _recently_ is the point.

Rey groans into the pillow of the guest bedroom.

She would like to sink through the bed, through the floor, right into the ground.

Although if she’s going to sink through that many apartments, she should probably get dressed.

Like she would have liked to have been when she’d first seen Ben again for the first time in ten years.

She groans again.

He’d looked almost exactly the same, despite his breathlessness and surprise. His face was a little more lined and his hair had some flecks of grey in it, and she’d seen the way his eyes had gone soft at the sight of her, the way they always had. _It’s been more than ten years,_ she thinks angrily at her pillow. She really should not be _pleased_ that his eyes still go soft when he looks at her.

Accidentally flashing him.

She pulls out her cell phone and sends a message to the group thread.

_Guess who just accidentally flashed her ex-husband???_

_New York trip off to a strong start!!!!!!!!!_

_Finn: You didn’t._

_Finn: Rey._

_I was coming out of the shower and he caught me by surprise and the towel slipped._

_Rose: I mean, to be fair, you have nothing to be ashamed of xx_

_Finn: Yeah but that doesn’t mean she wants him to see_

_Rose: <3 Just trying to make sure she doesn’t feel weird about her body in all this_

Rey hadn’t been feeling weird about her body until right that moment.

She’s not as slim as she had been when she and Ben had been together. As it turns out, your body doesn’t go back to the way it was before once you’ve had twins. She’s a little pudgy at the middle and no matter how hard she works, no matter how strong she gets, the pudge doesn’t quite go away. She’s never cared about that at all—even loves it because that pudge is a sign of _Breha_ but now…

Unhelpfully, her mind provides her with a memory: Ben with his arms wrapped around her telling her how beautiful she looks even though she’s huge and doesn’t ever want to move anymore and how the twins keep pressing on her bladder. He’d looked like he’d meant it too.

There’s a knock on the door. “Mom, I think it’s getting close to done,” Breha calls through the door and Rey sits bolt upright. Now is not a time for wallowing or defeat or humiliation. She dresses herself, ties her hair in a wet knot, then bustles over to the kitchen where Padme is already getting plates and silverware out for her.

“I don’t know what you did to her, she’s never this helpful,” Ben says and Rey practically leaps out of her skin. Again. Because Ben is sitting just out of the line of vision she’d had when she’d come into the kitchen while his two daughters bustle around the table setting it.

In another lifetime, this might be normal.

Rey shrugs. “Probably Finn.”

“Finn,” Ben says. “How’s Finn?”

“Finn’s fine,” Rey says as she bends down, opening the oven and taking out the pan. “Happy.”

“And he’s on your…farm with you?” Ben asks.

God this is awkward.

She settles the pan on the island in the middle of the kitchen and looks around. The girls have disappeared, leaving her alone with Ben. _They must have gone to get Leia._

She begins putting servings on the plates and Ben gets to his feet, bringing the plates to the table.

Thankfully the door opens and both girls are leading their grandmother in by each of her arms, talking loudly, and from then on it is _their_ show.

They’re telling stories of camp, how they’d worked out that they were twins (“As if one look didn’t tell you,” Leia laughs). They’re talking about archery, and about biking, and about swimming, and Rey can’t take her eyes off them.

They’ve known each other two months and they’re finishing each other’s sentences, and grinning at the same things, and they look as though they’ve gone through a mind meld or something. They look like they’d never been parted as they beam at one another whenever Leia asks a question, or Ben.

With dinner done, Padme proposes watching a movie together, which is how Rey finds herself on the couch with Ben, their girls between them while Leia puts in _The Princess Diaries_  which Padme insists they all watch because Rey and Breha haven’t seen it ever. Breha curls against Ben and Padme curls against Rey and Rey rubs her hand up and down her daughter’s side, stroking her gently as she tries to pay attention to the movie on the screen but instead her head is spinning.

In another life, she might be sitting next to Ben right now, his arm draped lazily over her shoulder the way that he had always done when they’d watched movies together before the girls had been born. She’d have her head on his shoulder, and would loosely smell the scent of his soap, or his deodorant, or his shampoo, and she’d feel—

 _I left him,_ she tells her dumb brain. _I left him. I was the reason this isn’t how things are anymore._

She thinks of Finn, and Rose, and Poe, and the farm. She thinks of sunshine, and fresh vegetables, and her daughter laughing. She thinks of that gnawing guilt she gets every time Padme flickered across her mind. She thinks of crying, and slamming the door in Ben’s face, and all she’d ever wanted was a family, why was she pushing away her family?

It’s like it had been out-of-sight, out-of-mind ever since it had happened, just like her parents, and now it’s flooding back into her. She wants to get up, get out of the room, but she also doesn’t want to leave Padme behind, so she sits there, staring at the television with eyes that aren’t really seeing anything until Padme’s prodding her and asking. “Did you like it?”

“Yeah,” she says automatically, smiling down at her daughter. “I’d love to watch it again sometime.”

Across the couch, Ben groans. “Not you too.”

“Ha!” Padme says, triumphantly.

The girls make their way towards bed, and Leia disappears into her room for a while, and Ben clears his throat.

“We should talk,” he says, and Rey takes a deep breath.

“Yes,” she agrees, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Breakfast tomorrow?” he asks. “I know you’ve had a long day. And I—” he cuts himself off.

“Breakfast works,” Rey says, a little breathily. Then, because she can’t help herself, “It’s good to see you, Ben.”

He swallows.

“It’s good to see you too.”

 

_-_

It doesn’t occur to Ben until he’s up and in the kitchen at six thirty the next morning that “breakfast” for him might be on the early side for Rey. Which means he is now in the position of having to tell work that he’ll be late this morning, and doesn’t know what time he’ll be getting in.

“Family emergency,” is the only detail he gives before going back to his room and opening his laptop. He could watch something on Netflix, he supposes. Or he could read the news, like he usually does over breakfast since he won’t get to that today.

Instead, he finds himself on Facebook, stalking Rey for the first time in years.

Her profile is sparse, but Finn’s is _not_ , even for someone who isn’t his Facebook friend. (It does not surprise Ben in the slightest that Finn unfriended him after the divorce. He doesn’t particularly care.)

There are pictures of Finn and what looks like two of his friends—at a farmer’s market, out in the countryside, roadtripping. And Rey pops into the pictures frequently, often with Breha tucked under her arm.

_Does she have a boyfriend?_

The question lurches across his mind uncomfortably.

Not least because he has a girlfriend.

He should close Facebook, he really should.

Except there’s a picture of Breha riding on Rey’s back and they both look so happy in the New Mexico sunshine. The caption from Finn is _my best girls_ and—yes, that’s definitely jealousy flows through him.

 _My best girls,_ he reads again. Except they’re not. Well, Breha can be, but Rey…

Now he closes his computer, frustrated. He _still_ doesn’t understand why she left, why she’d been so adamant that this couldn’t work, why she’d refused to give it a shot. The simple fact of her lying mere feet from him in his own apartment brings all of it flooding back to him.

He’d gone over it so many times with his therapist and the answers he’d come up with all…sit wrong. _That she hated him—_ that one can’t be true. He’s seen Rey hate, and she hadn’t hated him. _That she’d never really loved him—_ maybe. Love’s tricky. But she’d seemed as in love with him as it was possible to be, stars in her eyes, shy little smiles, pulling him closer to her in bed and burying her face in his neck. _That she’d been afraid—_ the most preposterous option of them all. Rey is the bravest person he knows. She doesn’t let her fear get to her.

It niggles and naggles until he hears his mother stirring from her bedroom and gets up to find her and both girls sitting in the kitchen with breakfast. They all stop talking the moment he pushes into the kitchen.

“What are you still doing here?” Padme blurts out.

“Good morning to you too,” he says to her, going to the coffee machine. His mother has made a fresh pot, and he pours himself a mug. “I’m having breakfast with your mother.”

“Oh!” Both girls look at each other, excited. He really wishes they didn’t look so excited.

“Probably to talk through,” he waves his hand between the two of them. “Custody and such.”

“Where are you going for breakfast?” Padme asks.

Ben shrugs. “Here?”

“You can’t eat _here_!” Padme insists. “Mom hasn’t been to New York in _years_. Take her somewhere _nice!_ ”

Ben looks at his mother, who is watching silently.

“There’s that new place on Eighty-Fourth,” she suggests. “The one with all the flavors you young people like mixing together.”

Ben makes a noise of protest before stopping because Rey will probably really like it there. Bazine had seen pictures on Instagram and had mentioned wanting to try it, so it’s probably good. Bazine’s more of a foodie than he is.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” he says. “We’ll just get distracted with these nuggets around,” he elbows Padme, who grins. “What are you planning to do today?”

“Museums,” Leia says. “Breha’s never been to the Natural History museum, so I figured we’d start there, and maybe walk around the park for a while.”

He smiles at Breha. “Budding scientist?” he asks.

Breha shrugs as though shy. “The planetarium sounds amazing,” she says, almost dreamily.

“She likes staring at stars,” Rey’s voice catches Ben by surprise. His ex-wife is up and dressed.

“Coffee?” he asks her, pointing to the machine.

“Tea?” Because of course. She’s Rey. And Rey had always liked fun flavored teas more than coffee.

“Probably just earl grey,” he says, apologetic.

“I’ll take it,” she says and he puts some water in mug, zaps it in a microwave while he finds the tea bags, and then presents it to her.

The girls are both watching, thoroughly delighted. _They’re just excited to see their parents in the same room,_ Ben tells himself. Better to focus on their excitement than the way his mother’s eyes are on his hands when he hands the cup over.

“I was thinking,” Ben says at last. “Before you head back to New Mexico—my uncle’s never met Breha, and Padme and mom and I usually go up to his place in the Adirondacks over Labor Day. Maybe we could head up there for a weekend or something?”

He glances between Leia and Rey.

“Are you on better terms with Luke?” Rey asks, looking surprised.

Leia snorts. “Better. Yes,” she says. “That sounds wonderful. I’ll give him a call this afternoon.”

“Cool,” Ben says. “I was thinking Bazine could come too.”

The mood of the room visibly shifts. The girls share a look and his mother’s gaze gets a little cool.

“Bazine?” Rey asks quietly.

“My—” Ben starts. He’s got to say it. All these dumb feelings he’s feeling—they’re memory. Rey’s about to go back to New Mexico, no more inclined to stay with him than she had been when she’d left the first time. The simple idea that she _might_ is laughable. “My girlfriend.”

“Oh,” Rey replies, and she takes a sip of her tea. “That sounds nice. A way for her to meet Breha.”

“Exactly.”

“I’ll let Luke know what to expect,” Leia says, and he definitely catches a hint of disapproval in his mother’s voice. _Probably thinks it’s not an appropriate time._ To be fair, it’s not. But he also had told Bazine and she’ll probably hate him if he keeps flaking on her. Especially if she finds out he’s going to a place she’d wanted to go to for breakfast with his ex-wife.

Ben nods to his mom before turning back to Rey. “Breakfast?”

She smiles up at him from over her tea. “Yes.”

“There’s a place on Eighty-Fourth.”

She takes a more significant gulp of tea and puts the mug down. “Lead the way.”

 

-

 

The moment Ben mentions having a girlfriend, Rey calms down.

Because it’s been ten years, and sure, she’s flashed him, and had spent too much time last night wondering what would happen if she’d done what Poe would have suggested and gone and knocked on his door to see if old sparks might light, but he’s moved on. And so has she. She has a life in New Mexico, and Ben Solo is not and hasn’t been a part of it in any more substantial way than being a shadow in his daughter’s smile.

She is Rey Johnson, and she hasn’t been to New York in years, and as she stares at the menu of this little boutique diner on Eighty-Fourth and Third, she feels more centered. She can order her avocado toast and discuss the situation peacefully and—hopefully—amicably with her ex-husband.

“So,” Ben says after he orders some eggs benedict and another cup of coffee.

“So,” Rey says again.

“How’ve you been?”

“Good,” she says. “It’s been good.”

“I’m glad,” he says quietly. He’s leaning forward, and his eyes are sincere, and Rey smiles. “It’s been ok here too.”

“Has Leia been I-told-you-so-ing for the past week?” Ben winces at the question. “Finn certainly did his fair share of it.”

“Not as much as she’s entitled to,” Ben tells her. “She’s been supportive. I think she knows it’ll…” he sighs. “It’ll get complicated.”

“Right,” Rey says. “Because I live in New Mexico and you live here, and the girls aren’t going to like the fact of it.”

Ben nods. “It seems inhumane to keep them apart,” he says. “Since they clearly don’t want to be.”

“Has either of them said that explicitly?” she asks. Padme hadn’t said a word to her, nor had Breha.

“Do they have to?” is Ben’s doleful reply, and Rey sighs. Because no, they don’t. Last night had been more than enough evidence for that.

“How does joint custody typically work?” Rey asks. “You’re a divorce lawyer, aren’t you?”

“Sort of lost my taste for it while getting divorced,” Ben says.

“Oh.” _Oh._

“I’m at a firm downtown. M&A mostly.” Rey doesn’t know anything about M&A—doesn’t even know what it stands for. It must show on her face, because Ben adds, “Mergers and Acquisitions. Corporate law.”

“Ah.” Rey takes a deep breath. “Ah. So. So should we get lawyers, then? To hash this out?”

“Let’s see what we can do before having to pay someone an ungodly amount of money to negotiate for us. If we don’t figure something out, it’s always an option.”

When Rey had first met Ben, he’d been six feet of quivering rage and pain. He’d constantly been on edge about something or other, and she’d found that oddly soothing. She hadn’t known how to confront her own anger, but Ben—Ben made her realize she was angry. That was an important thing—was part of why she loves her farm so much. It’s sweat and work and love and putting her anger to bed with the strawberries. This Ben sitting in front of her, though—the one with the girlfriend, and the eleven-year-old daughter—he’s not six feet of quivering rage and pain anymore. He’s older—just like Rey is. And calmer, just like Rey is.

It’s comforting.

“So,” she says again. “What sorts of options are there?”

“Well, there’s alternating years,” he says calmly and Rey’s stomach pits out. A whole year without Breha? Seven weeks at camp had been enough to turn her into a wreck. “Ordinarily I’d say alternating six-month periods, but I somehow get the sense that uprooting them in the middle of the school year at this age will hurt more than it’ll help.” Ben pauses, looking at her, and suddenly his hand is on hers and she realizes she’s shredding a paper napkin in her hands.

“It’ll be ok,” he tells her quietly. “It will be. It’ll have to be—for them.”

He’s right. Rey takes a deep breath. She tries to find that calm Rey, the one who had known that Ben had moved on, and not the Rey who is—apparently—petrified of abandoning her daughters to…to their father. She shakes herself. Ben’s a good dad. She can tell from the way that Padme had talked about him, even if she’s never seen it with her own eyes.

“There’s also keeping the arrangement we have now, but being more conscious of vacation times,” he says. “Maybe making sure we do things during school vacations together. Or sending them to the same summer camp.” Rey manages a smile and he nods as though trying to encourage her away from her anxious, napkin ripping. “Because unless you want to move here, I don’t really see how we can do a more traditional split custody arrangement—half a week at my place, half a week at yours.”

Rey thinks of the farm; of Finn and Poe and Rose; of Maz Kanata who always gives her beeswax candles at the farmer’s market; of BB’s drag show at _The Magic Eight Ball_ every Saturday night.

“I can’t just leave my life behind,” she says.

“I’m not asking you to,” Ben replies.

Unhelpfully, Rey wonders what would happen if he did, if he asked her to stay a while, to try New York again. She’d liked New York just fine when she’d lived here. It’s probably better as a fully grown adult rather than an overwhelmed just adult.

 _He has Bazine,_ she reminds herself and that part of her mind shuts up and sits back down.

She squares her shoulders. “And I don’t suppose you want to move down to New Mexico?”

“I think my mother would kill me if we moved down there before Padme’s bat mitzvah. I’m sure that Santa Fe has a lovely Jewish community, but my mother’s been waiting for this ever since she learned you were pregnant.”

Rey nods. That seems like something Leia would do.

“And that’s at thirteen?”

Ben nods. Just too far away for them to press it just now.

“There’s also things like—boarding school when they’re old enough. They could go to the same one and—”

“No,” Rey interrupts more strongly than she’d intended. “No.”

Ben’s watching her. Watching her, but he doesn’t say a word. Ten years ago, he would have growled some observation at her—that she’s an open wound about what her parents had done to her (which she _knows_ she is)—but now he just watches her and nods and says, “Yeah, not my top choice either.”

“Is this a conversation maybe we should be having with them?” she asks at last. “Their preferences?”

Ben shifts in his seat, his face growing somber. “I love Padme and think she’s got a good head on her shoulders. It’s probably the same for Breha, though I’ve only known her since she got back from camp. But I don’t think—” he pauses. “I don’t think they know how to think about it realistically. I think they’re still too young to understand how what they want might not be feasible, and I’d…” he sighs and shakes his head. “I can’t tell if I’d rather have them confront the futility that is life, or if I’d rather protect them from it a little while longer, let them blame us for—for whatever they want. Ripping them apart, falling apart to begin with.” He looks so sad when he looks at her and now it’s Rey’s turn to reach out and take his hand.

She doesn’t know what to say, so she just squeezes it and he smiles at her—a soft smile that almost reaches his eyes.

“Anyway,” he says slowly. “We’ve got time to think things over. I don’t think any of them is a perfect solution. I don’t think there is a perfect solution, in all honesty. I don’t even think staying together would have been the right solution.”

And there it is. He’s moved on. Rey exhales slowly.

“Staying together for the kids—noble in intent, but sometimes I wish my parents had just split up and stopped fighting,” he continues. “You wanted to leave, so it was right. Even if it sucked for a while. We can be here having breakfast, getting along, instead of whatever mess they would have been raised with.”

Vividly, Rey remembers how Ben’s eyes used to look when he looked at her, blistering rage and pain. They’d go gentle for her. And they clearly had stayed gentle. But would they have if she’d stayed and they’d been miserable?

“Tell me about her,” Rey says after a moment of silence while they look at each other. “What did I miss?”

And Ben’s face cracks into a devastatingly fond smile as he begins to tell her everything.

 

-

 

“How was breakfast?” Leia asks. Grandmother and girls have returned from the museums and the park, and Padme and Breha are in Padme’s room, listening to some very bad music very loudly.

“It was good,” Rey says. “We started talking about what we’re going to do and just…caught up.” She smiles at Leia.

“What did you settle on?”

“Just that we’re not settled yet. There aren’t good solutions because I live far away,” she sighs. “I don’t think either of us could bear a six-month split.”

Leia nods, slowly, her eyes unfathomable.

“But it wasn’t too uncomfortable—between you two?”

Rey smiles. “No, it was easy. It was nice. I’d…missed talking to him.” Because it is the truth. She loves Finn, and Poe, and Rose—loves them to death and back. But Ben’s always understood her too quickly, and always always always made her feel so supported. There had been a time when they’d gotten along well enough to fall in love, to get married. It was nice to have the best part of that without the agonizing heartbreak she’d always dreaded whenever she had poked memories of Ben.

“Well, that’s good,” Leia laughs warmly. “Since you’re going to keep talking to him now that the girls know about each other.”

Rey nods. If she doesn’t know what to expect from whatever they decide upon for their arrangement, she does think she can co-parent with Ben at least. That won’t be the hard part. _What are we going to do about the girls?_ That is the hard part. Because even as she thinks it, she hears happy giggles coming from Padme’s room.

Ben’s right about one thing: it does seem inhumane to separate them.

But Rey doesn’t want to leave Santa Fe, and Ben shouldn’t have to leave New York. Did that make them bad parents?

“What is it, Rey?” Leia asks. She’s forgotten just how damn observant Leia Organa could be.

“Am I a bad parent? For not wanting to come back here so they can be close by?”

Leia sighs. “There are all kinds of bad parents. And there’s bad parenting, which is different. And all children think their parents are the worst that there could possibly be. But no—no, you’re not a bad parent for not wanting to rip up the life you’ve built for yourself and your daughter to be near my idiot son and my absolute gem of a granddaughter.”

Rey gives Leia a wet smile. “Thanks,” she says.

“Why didn’t you and Ben try, though? To stay together?”

Rey stiffens. She remembers Ben’s derision about his parents staying together for him. That wasn’t the problem, though—the children wasn’t the problem.

What had been? She had loved Ben, and now that she’s here again, she finds it hard to remember exactly _what_ had made her so adamant that they could not, would not, would never be able to last as a pair. She’d been overwhelmed with the twins, yes, but Ben had been the opposite of an unhelpful, absent father. He had loved them. He had loved _her._

Rey remembers panic, remembers fear, remembers feeling empty and bleak. She remembers going south with Breha and sitting in the sunshine and feeling—not quite better, but at least more herself. Her own person, as she always had been. She remembers Finn, who had never much liked Ben, and Poe, who Rey didn’t know very well but loved because Finn loved him, and, later on, Rose.

She remembers crying and screaming and slamming the door in Ben’s startled face.

But why?

Why had her parents left her?

“I don’t know,” she says thickly. “I honestly don’t remember.”

Leia reaches a hand out and rubs her back, but there’s a triumphant gleam in her eyes that could only be associated with _I was right I knew I was right._

It doesn’t matter now. Ben has Bazine, and Rey has her farm and the girls—the girls will just have to accept that they didn’t spend the first eleven years of their lives together, and will have to understand that their parents are trying.


	4. Chapter 4

Bazine arrives at the apartment right as Threepio and Artoo are finishing loading up the cars for the trip. There are enough of them going up—between Ben, Rey, the twins, his mom, Threepio, Artoo, and Bazine—that they need to take two cars. She has a rolling suitcase and looks—well, Ben tries not to judge. He knows what his life is like too. But he can’t help thinking that she looks exactly like a New Yorker who had looked up what was fashionable outdoor getup for a weekend in the mountains and bought it all the day before.

“Hey you,” she says, leaning in to kiss him, her arms slipping warmly around his waist. She smiles up at him. “Missed you.”

“And you,” Ben says. She’s very pretty, Bazine. She’s slim, and tall, and her dark hair shines because she’d clearly just washed it. “Sorry about all the—” he searches for the word.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Bazine says to him, her lips still only inches from his, her breath tickling across his upper lip. “I know how crazy it must be. And this will be good—a way for me to get to know everyone all at once.” Her fingers are tracing little circles in the small of his back and he smiles down at her. He has missed her. Sure he’s been having weird thoughts about Rey, but that’s habit, now that she’s actually back in his life and not just a confused and painful memory. A confused and painful memory and weird thoughts that fizzle into his brain when Bazine stands on her tip toes again to kiss him.

Behind him, he hears someone clear her throat, and both he and Bazine turn around. The twins are standing there in matching outfits, matching French braids, and matching stern expressions.

“Hello!” Bazine says, clearly delighted to see them both. She lets go of Ben and passes him, bending down and resting her hands on her thighs so that she’s closer to eye level with both of them. “I’m Bazine. Now which one of you is Padme, and which is Breha?”

“Hello,” Padme—he thinks it’s Padme, her tan has faded, or at least started matching Breha’s—smiles sweetly up at Bazine.

“Charmed, I’m sure,” says Breha as she extends a hand. Bazine shakes it enthusiastically.

“I’m so excited to spend the weekend with you. I care about your dad _very_ much, and I hope we’ll be good friends.”

Ben smiles fondly at her, and it’s at precisely that moment that Rey comes out of the building with Leia, carrying a large woven bag that looks like it’s full of wine. She stops short when she sees Bazine, and her eyes flick between Ben and the woman and her girls.

“I’ll take that, Miss Johnson,” Threepio says, extending his hand for the bag of wine. Rey hands it to him with a smile, and it’s a subtle enough moment that maybe it could have flown under the radar, but Bazine glances up from the girls and her eyes land on Rey.

Ben can tell from her expression that Rey is not what she’d been expecting. Someone older, maybe, or more matronly. Certainly not Rey in her half-ponytail and clearly wearing one of Ben’s old shirts and Leia’s old pants because she hadn’t thought to bring clothes for the mountains. It’s in that moment that Ben realizes that Bazine and Rey are probably about the same age. Bazine might even be a little older. _God, she was so young when we…_ maybe that’s why they’d fallen apart—Rey was too young to know what she was doing, and god knows he hadn’t been with it enough to know how to help her. He really shouldn’t be thinking about that. He also really shouldn’t really like the way that Rey looks wearing his old shirt. His damn _girlfriend_ is here.

“Rey,” Rey says, holding out a hand to Bazine as Breha had.

“Bazine,” she replies, and turns back to Ben. “Ben mentioned you were in town—I didn’t realize you were coming up with us, though.”

“Yup,” Rey says, keeping her tone purposefully neutral. “I haven’t seen Luke—god—since the twins were born? It’ll be nice to catch up while the girls run around.”

“Were you close to Luke?”

“Is anyone close to Luke?” Leia asks dryly. “Cars.” She glances between the group of gathered people.

“Ben, why don’t you and Bazine take the girls,” Rey says at once. Both twins, Ben notes immediately, look at her as though this is base betrayal. He tries not to take it personally. Of course they’d rather ride with their mom than his girlfriend. “And I’ll drive with Leia and Threepio.”

“Miss Johnson, I’m afraid I’m not much of a driver,” Threepio intones.

“Rey drives, Threepio. Sit back and relax, for once in your life,” Leia says. “I’d say have some of the wine we’re bringing up for Luke, but I know you won’t.” She pats the old man on his shoulder and they get into the cars.

The girls are sitting next to one another, with Bazine behind Artoo—all the better for Ben to glance over his shoulder at her in.

“Have you ever been to the mountains?” Padme asks Bazine with a sweet smile.

“No,” Bazine smiles. “I’ve never really left New York.”

“For real?” Breha asks. “There’s so much of the rest of the world to see!”

“Oh—I’ve been around the world,” Bazine corrects. “Paris, London, Berlin—just not the countryside. It feels like I’m going on a grand adventure. Like we’ll be all roughing it together.”

In the rearview mirror, Ben sees Padme and Breha share a significant look.

“What’s the house like? Is it quaint? Picturesque?” Bazine asks. “I’m sure it is. Your family’s got such good taste in things. It’s probably quaint and _perfect_.”

“I think Uncle Luke took care of the termite problem,” Padme says sweetly, which makes the smile on Bazine’s face slip a little bit. “But he still hasn’t replaced the 1970s wallpaper. Bubbe keeps trying to get him to, but he’s attached.”

Ordinarily, Ben would intercede, but even if things with his uncle are better now, he can’t quite bring himself to _defend_ him. Not that he needs defending. Houses get termite problems, and solitary old men have their specific tastes in home décor sometimes. But it’s clear that it’s not what Bazine had been expecting. As if the past few weeks had been.

“But I’m sure it’ll do for your first trip out to the countryside,” Padme adds a little too sweetly.

“It’s not like Breha’s ever been up to the mountains either,” Ben points out. Something about the girls’ looks has him uneasy. Maybe because they’re starting to remind him a little too much of his mother.

“I’ve been up to the mountains!” Breha protests. “We roadtripped up to Colorado once. Rose and Poe wanted to get a bunch of weed, but mom didn’t want me to know, so we went up into the mountains while they got blazed.”

Ben chokes. Artoo laughs. “Sounds like a good reason to go to Colorado,” Artoo says. “Ever thought of a trip out there? Take Padme up to see some real mountains?”

Ben gives the old man a withering look. He doesn’t care what Artoo gets up to on his own time, but the girls are still _kids_ they’re too young to think about weed or drinking.

“Who are Poe and Rose?” Bazine asks politely.

“Oh!” Breha sounds delighted at the question, “That’s my mom’s friends. They live with us. Them and Finn are together. The three of them. And the three of them and mom all run the farm together.”

“All three of them?” Bazine sounds…oh boy.

“Well yeah,” Breha says matter-of-factly. “Why wouldn’t they? They like each other, and all get along, and they’re all still in their prime.” She grins. “I mean—families come in all different forms. Just look at ours! Me, and Padme, and mom and dad. The setup is unconventional, but—”

“That’s different from polyamory,” Ben cuts in. Oh god, was this why Rey had fled to the other car? He knew, of course, that Finn and Poe and Rose were a…what’s the word for a couple that’s got three people? Rey had told him that over breakfast the other day. But to imply that what he and Rey are trying to navigate is the same as that. They’re just exes. Boring old heteronormative exes.

Bazine’s face is very hard, as Breha replies, a little too cheerfully, “Yeah, but what I’m trying to say is that sometimes definitions don’t work for the way people care about one another. Right dad?”

“Right,” Ben says, a little weakly. He can’t help but feel a little bit out-witted by an eleven-year-old. Because he’d be a lying hypocrite if he thought any of the definitions that existed in the world worked for the way he thinks about, cares about Rey.

He turns his attention back to the road. Only…too many hours left until they reach Luke’s. He doesn’t think he’s ever wanted to make it to Luke’s this quickly in his life.

The other car has beaten them up by the time they pull up the mile-long dirt road to Luke’s. Rey, it seems, is the sort of speed-demon that would have made his father proud.

“Don’t be offended, Artoo,” Breha tells him the moment the old man starts muttering about how they beat him up. “The speed limit in New York is _ridiculous_. Fifty-five miles an hour? That’s not even the _minimum_ speed limit out west.” This doesn’t help Artoo, who gives Ben a look and says,

“Salt in the wound,” under his breath. He relaxes, though, when Rey presses a glass of wine into his hand and leads him up to the deck where Threepio, his mother, and—

He still has to remind his gut that he and Luke have made a lot of progress sometimes because it still twists when he sees his uncle. Luke’s eyes are kind today, soft and blue as he beams down at his great-nieces. He pulls them both into a hug, and presses a kiss to each of their cheeks.

“Look at you,” he says to Breha, brushing his knuckles over her cheeks. “Will you look at you.”

“Hi Uncle Luke,” Breha says, a little shyly.

“Welcome,” he says and he gives her another hug—just hers, this time. Then he stands and greets Bazine. “Luke Skywalker.”

“Bazine Netal,” she replies, shaking his hand.

“Where can I bring the bags?” Ben asks his uncle.

“We were just talking about that,” Luke says as he jerks his head and they follow the girls—who have already gone up to hug their mom and settle on either side of her on the bench—up to the porch. Threepio looks like he’s plastered already, which Ben can’t even begin to think is a bad idea. “Girls in the loft, and Threepio and Artoo in their room, and Leia in hers. But between the three of you…” he points between Rey and Bazine and Ben.

And Ben understands at once.

There’s only one other guest room in the house. It used to have a queen-sized mattress until Ben couldn’t stop growing and they’d had to bump it up to a king-sized. With a lurch, he remembers that the last time Rey had been here—hugely pregnant but too tired of the city to heed their doctor’s advice that maybe she skip the traditional Labor Day trip up to the mountains—he’d spent a good hour eating her out in it. The taste of her—

He turns to look at Bazine. “I can take the couch,” he says. It’s the polite thing to do. He’s the closest thing to a host, after all. “You and Rey can share—”

“Nonsense,” Rey cuts in. “You two take the bed. I’m the third wheel here, and very used to sleeping on couches.”

“Come up to the loft with us, mom!” Padme suggests brightly.

“If her back can take stooping,” Luke says. “It’s pretty tight up there.”

“I remember,” Rey says with a shudder. Ben remembers too—a Thanksgiving with too many people and Chewie and Lumpy had taken the king-sized bed and he and Rey had tried the loft and he could _still_ feel the bruises from when he’d stood up too straight and hit his head on that ceiling sometimes. (Unhelpfully, he also remembers the thrill of trying to stay silent while Rey had given him a heavenly blowjob because if there’s one thing that’ll carry through the entire house, it’s a groan from the loft. His girlfriend is _right here_. Why does he have to go thinking about all the places in this house he’d fucked his ex-wife right now?) “No, no,” Rey continues. “I’ll take the couch. It’s really fine. Don’t worry about me. I shouldn’t even be here.”

Which leads to a chorus of protests from his daughters and his mother and his uncle and Artoo and Threepio and Ben can’t help but wonder if—had Bazine said the same thing—she’d have gotten the same response.

“I’ll show you the room,” he says to Bazine, grabbing her suitcase and heading into the house. This is all a little too much, really.

“Bathroom’s through here,” he says, pointing to a door down the hallway. “And this is us.”

The room is just as it always has been—lazy afternoon sun filtering in through the leaves outside the window. Bazine closes the door behind him and a moment later her hands are all over him, and her lips are at that spot in his neck that she really likes kissing and he wraps his arms around her.

“I hope this isn’t too weird for you,” he tells her.

“Don’t worry about me,” Bazine purrs and all he can think is how Rey said the exact same thing only moments before when they’d been outside. “Besides—I’ve got to get used to it if it is weird. It’s your family, and I want to be with you.” She kisses him again, and Ben wishes—desperately wishes—that the kiss were enough to wipe the memories of Rey lying on this bed, moaning under his tongue, _completely_ out of his traitorous mind.

 

-

 

Rey is kicked out of the kitchen for after-dinner clean up. “You’re not part of the family anymore,” Luke tells her a little dryly. “Guests _don’t_ help with clean up.” He has no scruples in setting Breha to work, though, which is something at least. Luke seems intent on making sure that both girls get the same treatment from him, which pleases everyone involved.

Rey goes and sits out on the porch, watching as the sky fades towards navy blue, streaks of red and purple making their way across the sky on the clouds. It’s so different from Santa Fe. Everything is so green. She misses the overabundance of green in the northeast sometimes.

The door to the house opens and Rey sees Bazine step out. “Mind if I smoke?” She waves a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

“Be my guest,” Rey replies. Bazine lights, inhales, and exhales in a slow sigh.

After a few inhales and exhales, Bazine says, “I don’t know how you gave this up.”

“I’m sorry?” Rey asks, looking up at the woman. Bazine is watching her.

“This. Cabin in the woods, Park Avenue apartment. I just don’t understand how you gave it up.”

“It didn’t fit,” Rey says vaguely. She can barely talk about why she left Ben with _Finn_ , she is not going to have a heart to heart about it with Ben’s new girlfriend. “How did you and Ben meet?”

“Bumble,” Bazine says. “It’s the best dating app out there. Do you use it?” Rey shakes her head. “Do you have someone back west?” Rey shakes her head again. She has Finn, and Poe, and Rose, but that’s not what Bazine’s asking after. “Well, it’s great. You should try it. It means that _I_ get to pick who I talk to, rather than having idiots who think they know how to talk to me constantly in my notifications. And you know, Ben’s got a good profile. Good job, good education. I mean, sure, he has a kid, but that’s not a bad thing.” Rey stiffens, but if Bazine notices, it doesn’t make her stop talking. “If anything it makes him a more complete package, you know? Financially responsible, adult, that sort of thing. And I’m in my thirties now, it’s time to actually find something serious. I’m tired of fuckboys who act like they’re hot shit but really can’t make New York work for them, you know? But Ben…Ben’s stable.” _Not when I knew him,_ Rey doesn’t say, but she’s glad to hear that he is now. That’s good. He’d needed to stabilize. “He’s got a lifestyle that just…appeals to me.”

 _Cabin in the woods, Park Avenue apartment_ , Rey thinks. Yes, Bazine definitely fits Ben’s lifestyle far more than Rey ever had.

“Well, you’re lucky to have him,” Rey says at last. “He’s a good man.”

“He is,” Bazine agrees, sounding very pleased. “He’ll take good care of me, I know. Once all this…confusion is sorted out, it’ll be smooth sailing again. And of course once the girls are back in school, things will settle down again.”

Rey snorts. Bazine shoots her a look.

“Oh—you’ve just never been a mother,” Rey says. “And I doubt it’ll settle down when the girls are back in school. They’ve got a stubborn streak to them, and now they know about each other…” she sighs and leans her head against the wall.

“Well, we’ll have to break them of that stubborn streak, won’t we?” Bazine says conspiratorially, and Rey takes a slow, deep breath because that’s the _last_ thing she wants. She wants her girls to spit fire like Leia, like Rose. Bazine sits down on the bench next to Rey and pats her on the leg. “I’m sure you and I can see it done. They won’t be kids forever. They need to learn how the world works.”

“What do you mean?” Rey asks, trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible. Something about Bazine’s tone is rubbing her wrong. Hell, something about her words is rubbing her wrong too.

“Oh, you know,” Bazine says airily. “They’ll grow up into smart, sophisticated young ladies. And it’s important that they know what makes life easier. It’s good that Ben’s set financially. That helps. But they’ve got to learn how to exist in the world. That they can’t always get what they want.”

“I still don’t—”

Bazine lets out an impatient huff. “They can’t keep ruffling feathers.”

“Ruffling—”

“They’re going to be grown-ups, soon. They should learn to behave like it.”

Rey stares at her. Then, slowly, she gets to her feet. “Breha handles the check-out at our farm stand all by herself,” Rey tells Bazine. “She doesn’t _like_ doing her chores, but she still does them. She gets good grades in her classes and is really excited to be studying earth sciences this year. She is always trying to make people smile, and only ever wants to make the people she loves happy. I don’t know what you expect from adults, but that’s good enough for me.” She goes back into the house breathing hard.

The kitchen is clean, the girls are up in the loft giggling together and Rey sits down on the couch. _She’ll have to learn that_ she _can’t always get what she wants. Who is she to act as though she’s going to raise my daughters?_

But the moment that she thinks the thought, she sags. She’s Ben’s girlfriend. She is part of his life. He may even be in love with her already. If she and Ben…

Rey hates the lump in her throat, and continues the thought. If she and Ben get married, then she’ll have a lot of say in how the girls grow up from here on out.

_We’ll have to break them of that stubborn streak, won’t we?_

It makes Rey want nothing more than to take Padme and Breha _both_ back to Santa Fe with her. Leave Bazine with Ben’s _lifestyle_ , and keep the girls away from her.

 

-

 

“Do you think he’s had sex with her?”

Rey hears the whisper from the loft and wishes she were already asleep. Breha had learned about sex young. Nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to hide from, because god only knew that between Rose and—well the entire household, really, because Rey was thoroughly on board as well—they were going to make sure that their little girl was never ashamed of her body, that she loved it, that she knew that good sex meant respect and not just desire, and she was going to learn that young. She has no idea when Padme would have learned about sex, but from the sighed response of,

“I don’t know. Probably, right? I mean look at the way she’s all over him,” she clearly knows _something_ already. Or maybe that’s just a thing that little girls come back from summer camp having learned about.

Clearly, Padme—or Breha—has made a face because the other says, “I know.”

“And we’re going to have to learn to live with her?”

“Me more than you. You get to go back to New Mexico and Finn and Rose and Poe. I’ll have _Bazine_. It’s not _fair_.”

If Rey had been feeling gloomy, that almost makes her feel better. At least it sounds like Padme isn’t too thrilled with Bazine either. _Keep yourself stubborn,_ Rey thinks fiercely at her little girl, her eyes on the ladder up to the loft.

“It just doesn’t make sense,” Breha says. “From everything you’ve told me about dad—”

“Yeah, I know. But maybe there’s more to her than what we thought.” Padme doesn’t sound optimistic.

“Maybe there’s something we can do? Or maybe mom can talk some sense into him.”

“What kind of sense? He’s clearly not thinking with his _sense_.”

Rey almost snorts. From the moment she’d seen Bazine—lean, tall, perfectly made-up even though they were going out to the mountains—she’s fairly certain she knows what senses Ben’s been thinking with. Next to her, she feels short (even though she’s not) and dumpy (even though she’s not) and, well, a part of the past. She’s the been-there-done-that; Bazine’s new and shiny. It does nothing to improve her mood.

If anything, it makes her feel even worse about the whole situation. More proof that she and Ben couldn’t have fit, that Bazine is what he wants, what fits his life now.

She can almost hear Rose in her mind, telling her not to think like that, that that’s patriarchy priming her to be jealous of—

 _I’m not jealous,_ she thinks fiercely. _Ben and I aren’t anything anymore._

But Bazine is lying in the bed where Ben had given her some of the best orgasms of her life. And she knows—knows because they’d tried to be quiet in the loft that the girls clearly aren’t aware can be heard from anywhere that’s not a bedroom—that Ben can be absolutely silent during sex if he needs to be. Maybe they’re having sex, right now, in that lovely king-sized bed. Bazine and Ben.

_Now you’re just going and making yourself miserable._

As if this whole trip hadn’t been an exercise in that. Now she just feels…obsolete.

She can imagine Rose’s face getting fierce. _A woman’s purpose is more than just having kids and being hot. Think of all you’ve done._

She pulls out her phone at that and texts—not Rose, but Finn.

_Help me not be jealous of my ex and his new gf_

But it’s about ten o’clock here, which means that, chances are, Finn and Rose and Poe are having dinner, unless they’ve forgone to take advantage of the empty house and are already in bed, being as loud as they want since their nearest neighbors are a good mile away. _Why is everyone in bed with someone except me?_

It’s not like she _wants_ to be in bed with anyone, but it’s been a while and this house—

She turns on the couch and presses her face into the pillow. This house is what remains of the life she’d shared with Ben. He’d moved out of the apartment in Morningside they’d shared when he’d moved back in with his mom, and she had nothing left of New York. But this house—Luke’s house…

The girls have fallen silent, clearly not wanting to think about Ben and Bazine anymore than Rey does. After a few minutes, she starts to hear steady breathing and, because she’s not falling asleep at all, and Finn hasn’t texted her back, she gets up and goes to the kitchen where she finds Luke and Leia sitting at the counter, talking quietly.

They both freeze when Rey comes through the door.

“Can’t sleep?” Luke asks pushing a teapot towards her. “Ginger. If you want to add something stronger to it, that’s in the living room.”

Rey pours herself a cup of ginger tea and leans against the counter, staring at the hot yellow water. She’d had ginger tea constantly when she’d been pregnant. Ben had even gone so far as to grate fresh ginger for her because he wanted to be nice about it.

“It’s good to have you back,” Luke says quietly. “Probably not something anyone wants said, but I’ve missed you, Rey. Always gave me a good kick in the pants.” He smiles at her. It’s strange—seeing Luke smile. He’d been in the midst of a very intense depression when Rey had first known him.

“It’s…” Rey fumbles for words. “It’s strange being back here, to be honest.”

“I bet,” Luke says, sharing a look that Rey doesn’t understand with his sister. “All the same.” He raises his mug at her in a silent toast.

“You should come down to New Mexico sometime,” Rey blurts out suddenly. “You’d like Santa Fe.”

“Maybe I will,” Luke grins at her. “The mysterious great uncle in the house in the woods is a much easier aesthetic to maintain when your great niece lives in the city. When she’s that far away, you’re just that uncle who won’t come visit.”

Rey snorts.

“When do you fly back?” he asks.

Rey glances at Leia.

“Still deciding,” Leia says noncommittally. “She and Ben still have some terms to work out.”

Luke nods. “Leia got you your tickets?”

“From the way she said that, I’m wondering if she’s not planning on holding me hostage here,” Rey jokes.

“I would never,” Leia says with the tone of one who absolutely would.

“This place is as good a place as any to hide your body if you don’t reach an amicable arrangement with Ben about custody,” Luke says seriously. “And I know how to make it look like an accident.”

“I should hope you would. You’ve been up here for how many years now? Need to show something for your time.”

Luke grins at her before yawning. “Well, bedtime for me,” he says. “I mean it—it’s good to have you back. And I know that I shouldn’t say it, and I should give her the benefit of the doubt, but the new girl—she ain’t no Rey.”

Rey gives Luke a soft smile. It means more than she knows how to articulate right now—that at least Luke thinks she fits. “Thanks,” she tells him. He pats her shoulder and leaves the kitchen.

Rey and Leia drift off shortly thereafter, turning off the light in the kitchen. Rey settles herself back on the sofa and checks her phone. Finn has replied.

_Listen, I don’t know her, but you could definitely beat her in a fight is all I’m gonna say_

Which makes her bite on her fist to stop from laughing out loud and waking up the whole house.

Her heart is warmer. She’d needed the levity.

_Miss you_

_Miss you too. This place ain’t the same without you._

 

-

 

Ben tries very hard not to wake Bazine when his internal clock gets him up at six the way it always does. Bazine is not a cuddler in bed. She’s lying on her stomach, her head turned away from him, and Ben has yet another unhelpful memory of trying not to disturb a very pregnant Rey as he’d gotten up earlier than she had. Rey had been more of a challenge, though. She’s a light sleeper—and pregnancy had only made that worse—and she’d always cuddled into him, snoring lightly against his chest, his neck, his ear, wherever she’d ended up resting her head for the night. Extricating himself from Rey had been a nightmare; getting up without disturbing Bazine was all too easy.

He tries to tiptoe his way through the living room. Rey is snoring on the couch, her arm thrown over her eyes to block out the light that is beginning to stream through the curtainless windows, and the girls are silent in the loft.

He goes into the kitchen and is just silently muttering _fuck_ to himself because there’s no way he can run the coffee grinder without waking up the entire house when he hears Rey’s voice saying, “Morning,” and nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Hi,” he says quietly. She’s wearing an old ratty t-shirt that says _The Magic Eight Ball_ on it and no pants at all. He can tell from the shape of her breasts right now that she’s not wearing a bra under the thing and—and—

And she’s looking at him, taking him in too, eyes on his flannel sleeping pants, his t-shirt, his hair. She almost smiles at the sight of his hair, and almost at once, his hand flies to it. From the look in her eyes, he _knows_ what she’s thinking—memories of trying to get his hair to lie flat in the morning so it didn’t look to the universe like they’d had a lot of sex the night before. He and Bazine hadn’t had sex the night before, though they had made out for a little while, and his hair bears witness to that. He hadn’t sweat quite enough for it to really look like bedhead, and Bazine had never been as into running her fingers through his hair as Rey had been.

“I was thinking—want to make breakfast for everyone? Since we’re up?”

Which is how they end up making buttermilk pancakes for all nine people in the house, the way they had done the day after Thanksgiving once a long time ago when no one had wanted to cook and there hadn’t been enough leftover pie for the traditional post-Thanksgiving pie-for-breakfast.

“You’re going to berate me as a parent,” Rey says as he pours some of Luke’s maple syrup into a sauce-pan for heating.

“You raised her on Aunt Jemima, didn’t you?”

“There aren’t maple trees in New Mexico,” Rey says, flushing.

“I could forgive you anything else. But fake maple syrup? That stuff’s just corn syrup and coloring. Doesn’t even taste like maple.”

“Well, you get to ride in on your white horse and correct me when she wakes up,” Rey says, poking him in the stomach before freezing.

How many times had they playfully poked each other? It’s habit, he knows it’s habit. But he’d been grinning and had even gone so far as to grab her wrist before reality caught up with them, before they both turned away from one another, flushing and returned to mixing the batter and preparing the pancakes.

Threepio and Artoo are the next ones up and are _delighted_ with the pancakes. “These are the best pancakes I’ve eaten in years!” Threepio praises through his second plate. “Miss Johnson, you really must give me your recipe.”

“Same one I’ve always used, Threepio,” she grins at him.

“Write it down for him,” Artoo says a little gruffly. “His memory’s starting to go.”

“It most certainly isn’t!” Threepio huffs, but Rey gives Artoo a knowing smile before rifling through Luke’s drawers to try and find a paper and pen and Ben tries very hard not to stare at her ass as she bends over.

“The real question,” Luke says without preamble or greeting when he finally arrives for breakfast—the last of the house, despite being the host. “Is who’s coming up on the trails with me?”

“We’re only here for a weekend,” Leia points out.

“Yeah, but the girls don’t have school. You could extend the trip, couldn’t you?”

They all look at Ben, who clearly is the one with the least flexible schedule.

“Please, dad! We want to go hiking!” one of the twins says.   They’ve been doing that thing where they dress identically and it’s really fucking with him. They really need to stop doing that.

“I’ll…see what I can do,” Ben manages, and glances at Bazine. “If I can, want to come?” He can’t imagine her saying yes at all—she’s never been out of a city in her life. But he watches as she looks between the girls, and Rey, and Ben, and says,

“I’d love to! No time like the present.”

The girls fail at looking excited about this.

“What do you say, Rey?” Luke asks her.

Rey, like Bazine, looks between Ben and the girls before her own eyes settle on Bazine.

“No,” she says, “I don’t have good hiking shoes with me. You all go on up without me.”

“Mom,” whine the twins, and Leia interrupts the whining with a,

“I’m sure we could find something for you to use,” but Rey’s just shaking her head.

“No, it’s really fine.”

“You sure?” Ben asks quietly when they’re putting dishes into the dishwasher.

“Let them get to know Bazine,” she says firmly. There’s something odd in her face when she says it.

“Rey—”

“It’ll be good. Give me some space. I haven’t had much space since I got here.”

That shuts him up and fast.

 _Space,_ had been what she’d said she’d needed when she’d left. _Space_ , had been what he’d always been terrible at giving her. And she’s her own person, and not the same person he’d married. So yeah—sure—he can give her space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoutout to @treechild for pointing out that ginger would probably be better than chamomile based on what's healthy for pregnant women!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things before we kick off:
> 
> 1) Huge thanks to [spacedarcy for this lovely lovely moodboard](https://shmisolo.tumblr.com/post/176426637947/spacedarcy-lets-get-together-by-shmisolo-in)!!
> 
> 2) A lot of folks have been commenting about how Bazine is making a wonderful Meredith. I'm glad that she's resonating in that role; but the real deal is that I grew up on the 1961 version of this movie, and so she's less Meredith to me and more Vicky. Which means that some of her behavior in this chapter is ripped right out of that movie. So if it's jarring/shocking/surprising on that front, please know it's because I'm pulled from both films while writing this and when it came down to it, some of Vicky made more sense than some of Meredith.
> 
> 3) Lastly, and certainly not least, thank you all so much for reading this fic! It's been a pleasure to share with you all and I'm so glad you've been enjoying!
> 
> And now, on with the show!

She feels a little bad, using exactly that word to get her point. But it’s the truth: she does need space.

Because if she keeps not having space with Ben, she’ll keep regressing and poking him in the stomach, and remembering what it had felt like to wake up next to him when the sun streams in through the windows too early in the morning, and what it would be like if she came home every day and Ben was there with her girls and they were really a family—the family that Rey had never had, had never let herself have.

So yes, she feels guilty. But she also doesn’t think she regrets it as she helps load up backpacks and tells the girls to be _good_ , and tucks Breha’s pants into her socks because she’s heard that ticks have been getting worse in the Northeast because of problems with the deer population and she does _not_ want to bring her daughter back to New Mexico with Lyme Disease.

They’ll be gone two days, camping and hiking, and Rey will stay here in the house with Leia, Threepio, and Artoo. She’ll sleep, relax, and try so very hard to get her shit together so that she and Ben can finally work out what on earth they are going to do about the twins.

 

-

 

The trail is narrow, and Luke forges ahead with the confidence of a man who knows exactly where he’s going. Ben stays close behind. Luke’s fit, but Luke’s also getting old and Ben can’t really believe he’s thinking this, but he’d be upset if something happened to his uncle. His therapist would be very proud. Bazine is a few paces behind him, and the girls are behind her, talking quietly as they go.

“How is it up here?” he asks his uncle. Luke glances back over his shoulder.

“Oh, it’s—” he waves a hand, “Same as always, really. Doesn’t really change much.”

“Hermithood still suiting you?”

Luke cracks a smile. “Bingo night at the rec center is starting to be the highlight of my week. Never thought I’d say that, given how much fun of Uncle Owen I used to make for going to that.”

“Yeah, well you were a brat by all accounts,” Ben says dryly. It’s something Luke freely admits to. Therapy had made Ben wonder if that wasn’t Luke’s own guilt at his aunt and uncle dying while Luke hadn’t been there. But he’s not going to ask that.

Things are better with Luke—not that that would take much—but he’s certainly not going to have a heart-to-heart with his uncle anytime soon.

“Sure was,” Luke replies without missing a beat. “Nothing at all like those little angels back there,” he waves a hand loosely towards the twins.

“Angels, sure,” Bazine says and both men turn to look at her. She is clearly startled by that reaction. “I only meant that there’s more to them than their smiles…” Her words suggest a compliment but her tone…something in her tone makes Ben almost frown, makes him remember how she’d called Breha a brat before even meeting her. He glances between Bazine and the girls, who are still a few paces behind. If they know they’re being talked about, they show absolutely no sign of it.

It’s hot by the time they reach the brook, and Ben descends down into the water to refill bottles.

“There aren’t going to be…I don’t know…diseases in there are there? Tapeworms?” Bazine asks as he hands her the refilled water bottle

Ben laughs. “You’ve really never been out of the city, have you?” he asks. It’ll be a waste of a tablet, he knows, but if it sets her mind at ease it’ll be worth it, so he takes a water test tablet and pops it into his own water bottle. The water’s pure. A little dirt, maybe, but they’re hiking, so that’s to be expected.

He notices Luke going up the path and hurries to follow him. “What’s up?”

“Oh, just—look at that view.” Luke points. They’ve reached a clearing and it’s really very pretty, the way the mountains roll deep green in the sunlight.

“Hey, Baz!” Ben calls, but she must not have heard him because she doesn’t come. When he and Luke make their way back down to the brook, he sees Bazine sitting near the girls, listening to what they’re saying with a look of genuine interest on her face.

 _There,_ he thinks, _that’s better._

“You all ready?” Luke calls, and the three of them scramble to their feet. The girls take off and Bazine takes up the rear.

“How much further to the campsite, Uncle Luke?” Padme (he thinks) asks.

“Oh, another hour or so,” he says. “Not too far from here.”

Because the girls are with Luke, Ben falls back. Bazine is flagging. Sure, she goes to SoulCycle every few days, but that’s not the same as climbing up trails. She’s got a pair of sticks in her hand and a determined look on her face.

“Having fun?” Ben asks.

The smile she gives does not quite reach her eyes, but she says, “I am, dear.”

“Glad to hear it,” he says and he kisses her cheek.

“Ew, I’m all sweaty,” Bazine says, pushing at him playfully.

“Have the girls been ok?” Ben asks.

“Oh, positive delights,” Bazine says, but again, her tone…She catches the expression on his face and sighs. “I know I’m not their mother, but it’s hard because she’s here, you know? I feel like everything I’m doing is being compared to her. It’s not just the girls. Even your mom and your uncle…”

Ben wraps an arm around her shoulder. “I know it’s a lot,” he says.

“A lot, sure,” Bazine says and she sounds bitter. “I know I asked for it, but still…”

Ben doesn’t know what to say to that—because yes, yes she had asked for some of it, but it had been his idea to invite her up to the mountains.

But before he can figure out what to say, Bazine heaves a sigh. “It’ll be worth it in the long run. I just need to remember that.” She looks up at him and runs a hand along his side. Then, glancing up the trail, she stands on her tiptoes and gives him a very long kiss—probably longer than necessary, but who’s Ben to complain?

Early evening finds them by a pond that’s halfway around the trail. The girls have set up the tent, Luke has caught them a bunch of little fish that are frying away in a pan, and Bazine is slapping away mosquitoes and rubbing more of her boutique bug repellant on her skin. “It’s like it doesn’t even _work_!” she complains. “It’s like it’s telling them, _come feast on me_ , rather than driving them away.”

“What’s even in this stuff?” Ben asks and he takes the bottle from her hand. To his surprise, it hasn’t got any markings on it at all, so he opens it and sniffs. Absolutely no scent hits his nose. Frowning, he pours some into his hand and—yes he knows this is dumb and will absolutely come back to bite him if he’s not careful—dabs a little bit on his tongue. Then he starts to laugh. “Well that’ll explain it. This isn’t bugspray, it’s sugar and water. Every mosquito in the damn mountain range will be after you for this stuff. Where’d you get it?”

Bazine looks furious and she stares at the girls and he knows at once where she’d gotten it. This bottle looks like one of his mother’s old shampoo bottles, but with the label carefully scrubbed off. “An old family recipe,” she says.

“Yeah,” Ben says giving the girls a look, “Family recipes don’t go as far as deet. Here.” He digs around in his backpack for the _Off Deep Woods_ that he’d put on this morning. “Might want to go wash that sugar off first though.” He jerks his head towards the pond.

“What, in there? Is it—” she cuts herself off and rolls her eyes. “A bit dirty but clean, same as that brook water, right?”

“Yep,” Ben says. Bazine gets to her feet and Padme calls after her, “Watch out for leeches!”

Bazine freezes and Ben gives his daughter a look and she immediately ducks her head—even if she still looks a little too pleased with herself.

Bazine returns, sprays herself with Ben’s bug spray, and immediately seems to relax, though she does keep needing to scratch her bites. “I don’t suppose you have any lotion or something?” she asks Ben.

“I’ve got some!” Breha says. “It’s from Maz Kanata back home—I used it all summer in Wisconsin.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t take something that personal,” Bazine says, looking viciously at Breha. _Viciously, now,_ Ben thinks uncomfortably. That’s not ok. He’ll have to talk to her about it tonight.

Breha shrugs. “Suit yourself. Works really well, though.”

But before he gets the chance to, Bazine gets to her feet. “I’m calling it quits for tonight,” she says and then she grabs those two sticks she’d been holding and begins clapping them together as she makes her way towards the pondside tent that the girls had set up for her.

“Baz?”

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?” Ben asks, nodding towards the sticks.

“To ward of mountain…there aren’t mountain lions here, are there?”

“Not in the Adirondacks,” Luke says, “Though I can’t speak for some of the ranges out west.”

Bazine hurls the sticks into the pond and disappears into her tent. But before Ben can tell the girls off for it, Luke begins laughing. “Mountain lions in the Adirondacks. I swear to god, New Yorkers can be so provincial sometimes.”

“Think it’s bedtime for us too,” Padme says, getting to her feet at once. “Goodnight, Uncle Luke! Goodnight dad!”

“Not so fast,” Ben says and she freezes, as does Breha who’s midway through getting to her feet as well. “That wasn’t nice. I know she’s not your mom, but that wasn’t nice.” Padme looks chagrinned and Breha looks down at her feet.

“We’re sorry,” Breha says softly. “Don’t hate us, dad.”

“I couldn’t hate you,” Ben says. “But I do expect better of you.” 

They go to their tent, and Ben turns back to the fire and his uncle. “You think I was wrong to tell them off?” he asks, grumpily.

“No,” Luke says, “It wasn’t nice. But…the woman _didn’t_ know there weren’t lions in the Adirondacks. She’s not exactly the brightest bulb in the chandelier. And your girls don’t like her. You sure…” His voice trails away and Ben runs his hands over his face. Because no. No, he’s not sure. He’s not sure at all.

 

-

 

Ben wakes to _shrieking_ , and his immediate reaction is _oh no, what now?_

 _Oh no, what now_ is Bazine flailing in the middle of the pond, where her air mattress had floated in the middle of the night. And just as Ben pulls himself out of his tent, intent on getting into the water and guiding her back to shore, she flails a little too hard and falls into the water. He lurches forward wading quickly but she’s already mostly out of the pond by the time he gets to her, reaching for her to help steady her. But she bats his hand away and marches towards shore, making angry high pitched growly noises.

She rounds on Ben when she’s firmly on land. “They’re going to _boarding school_ ,” she snaps at him. “The little demons.”

“Now hang on,” Ben begins because that’s not Bazine’s decision, he and Rey are still working on figuring out what to do with the girls. But Bazine has already continued over to where the twins are standing, looking as innocent as they can which doesn’t quite hide the devious delight in their eyes.

“You,” Bazine says, picking one. “You love your sister?”

“Yes,” Padme says.

“You share everything with her?”

“Yes.”

“So share this,” and Bazine raises her hand and Ben sees red.

His had snaps out before she can slap his daughter and he wrenches her away—hard. His grip on her wrist is viselike as she tries to pull away from him.

He doesn’t say anything at all because there are no words he can find in his anger right now, but he sees Bazine recoil away from him, realizing she’d gone several hundred thousand steps too far. He hasn’t felt this angry since before the girls were born, a trembling sort of rage, an _I’m going to throw a television out the window_ sort of rage, a _you were going to hit my daughter_ sort of rage.

He shakes his head and lets go of her and Bazine stumbles away from him, breathing hard.

“Ben,” she begins, but he just keeps shaking his head and trembling.

“Let me get you back to the house,” Luke says, stepping in, and Bazine doesn’t know what anger looks like on his uncle either, doesn’t know that Luke too-calm is Luke as violently angry as Ben is. But she turns towards him as though he’s a goddamn lifesaver and within five minutes they have left the camp.

“Dad?” Padme asks quietly, and Ben realizes he’s still standing there, shaking, as his girl slips her hand into his. “I’m sorry, we shouldn’t have done that—you were right we were being mean.”

Ben shakes his head and pulls Padme into a hug. She’s ok. “That doesn’t mean she gets to hit you,” he says. “No one gets to hit you—not ever. Ok, sweetheart?” He runs a hand over the cheek that Bazine had been preparing to slap. Then he pulls Breha in for a hug too. “Sugar water bugspray, and mountain lions, and pushing her mattress into the water doesn’t mean she gets to hit you.”

He holds them both for a long time before they start to squirm. Then he lets go and says, “Let’s get this campsite cleared and head back.”

“Can we finish the trail?” Padme asks. “Breha’s never seen it.”

He glances between the two of them. He’s not shaking as hard anymore. “Yeah,” he says at last. “We’ll take the long way back.”

 

-

 

Rey is Facetiming with Finn when she hears the car pull up and sees Bazine tear out of it. She looks a bit bedraggled as she storms into the house to grab her things.

“What’s going on?” Finn asks at Rey’s distraction.

“I’m not sure,” she says. Bazine is making strange noises, angry huffs. “I’ll call you back, ok?”

“Sure thing,” Finn says and Rey hangs up. She goes out to the porch, where Luke is standing with Leia, talking quietly.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m putting Bazine on a bus back down to the city,” Luke says, his eyes serious.

“What—” but before Rey can finish the question, Bazine is standing in front of her, tall and furious.

“I hope you’re happy,” she snaps. “Your brats did this.” Rey stiffens. “But I guess that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Him and his money all to yourself.”

She turns on her heels and storms towards the car while Rey stands there, rooted to the spot, watching as Luke gets back in the car and the two of them drive off.

“Well, I think we’re well shut of her,” Leia says. “Good riddance too. Anyone who calls my girls brats doesn’t belong in my family. Come on. Let’s get some lunch in us.”

Rey follows Leia into the house, they eat some sandwiches with Artoo and Threepio and then she goes into Ben’s room, preparing to call Finn back before she pauses.

Whatever had happened on that trail, Bazine and Ben weren’t together anymore. And maybe they _hadn’t_ done anything in this bed, but Rey strips the sheets off anyway and replaces them with fresh ones. Ben probably won’t even notice, but if he does, he’ll probably be grateful.

When she’s done, she sits on the bed and calls Finn.

“Spill,” Finn says, and she does. He lets out a low whistle. “Damn,” he says. “So she was after Ben’s money, was she?”

That part hadn’t even registered amidst the _they’re not together anymore_ that has been swirling through her brain. It only makes Rey angrier, especially when she thinks of two nights before and the conversation on the porch.

“Well, if you wanted to feel better about yourself, at least you were never a gold digger,” Finn says. “Though it sounds like you might not need that ego-boost anymore.”

“Not likely,” Rey mutters. Ben has so much more to offer than just his _money_. He’s supportive, and tender, and loving and Bazine Netal hadn’t wanted any of that. She hadn’t wanted his family. She hadn’t wanted his life. Just the lifestyle. Which Ben had almost always hated. “I never wanted that from him. I just wanted family. And I got that.”

She goes still. She’d gotten it and left it behind and now—

“Rey?”

Ben’s single again.

And she feels like an opportunist for wondering, for hoping…

“It wouldn’t work,” she whispers sadly. “I’m not leaving you all behind for—”

Finn makes an annoyed noise. “Of course you’re not leaving us behind. But that doesn’t mean we might not kick you out if you make stupid decisions. You want Ben back?” The question is paining him, she can see it on his face. He’d never liked Ben. But he’d always loved Rey and, more importantly, had always wanted Rey _happy_.

“I don’t know.” Except that she does.

“Well, figure it out. We’ll help you when you do know.”

“That’s right,” she hears Poe say from the background, and she smiles.

“He may not even want it,” Rey mumbles. “He did just break up with his girlfriend, after all.”

“Look, if she said something like this is what you wanted, maybe it’s projecting some of what _he_ wanted onto you.” Finn makes it all sound so reasonable. “Just…don’t write him off until you see him, ok?”

“Sure,” she says. “I can do that.”

At least—she thinks she can.

 

-

 

They make it back to the house as the sun is setting. Dinner is already on the table and the girls even wash their hands before sitting down to eat and telling their captive—if loving—audience about their day. They don’t tell about the morning with Bazine. Ben’s glad about that. He doesn’t particularly want to relive it.

“We saw porcupines, and wild turkeys, and even some deer!” Breha is telling Rey excitedly. She is scrolling through the pictures she’d taken on her phone. Rey makes a face. They’d clearly reached the centipede picture.

“It’s huge, mom.”

“I can see that.”

“Look at all its little legs!”

“I’m looking.”

“Stop tormenting your mother,” Ben cuts in. Rey’s never liked bugs much and Breha probably knows that as well as he does. She immediately changes the picture and Rey gives Ben a look that—

Well that confuses the fuck out of him, in all honesty. It’s grateful, sure, but it’s also a glowy and warm and reminds him of being here with her ten years ago before everything had gone to shit, when they’d been about to start their little family, rather than it all being about to fall apart.

Had Luke told her about Bazine that morning?

He can’t stop looking at her, now that he’s looking at her. And she’s not looking away from him either—at least not until Padme asks her to pass the salad down the table.

Ben showers, and, because he’s feeling sentimental and still a little more shaken from the morning than he’d like, he goes and checks on the girls in the loft. They’re out like lightbulbs, and there’s a lump in his throat when he looks at them because he remembers them both in their crib right after they’d been born, tiny and red-faced and squalling and perfect. His little girls. His too-clever by half little girls.

He climbs down the ladder from the loft again and sees Rey lying on the couch, watching him. She gives him a smile that makes his heart do a dumb thing it hasn’t done in years.

“You ok?” she asks him quietly, and he swallows. Then he gestures to her and she follows him into the bedroom so they can talk without waking the girls. She settles herself on the bed—the same side of the bed that had always been hers, the side that had always felt empty after she’d gone, even if Ben hadn’t wanted to admit that to himself—and looks up at him patiently.

“I…” he begins. There’s so much he wants to tell her, about Bazine, about that morning, about the girls, about everything that’s happened in his life without her for the past ten years. But all he can manage is, “I’m glad you’re here.”

Rey tucks her knees up to her chest and rests her chin on them. “I’m glad I’m here too,” she says softly. “It’s been really nice to see you again, Ben.”

That’s when he notices it—that the sheets on his bed…when he’d woken up with Bazine a few days ago, they’d been plain and white. Now they have a yellow floral pattern. Threepio was anal, perhaps, but he wasn’t going to change sheets after two uses unless specifically asked, and typically he didn’t do any sort of housekeeping at Luke’s because Luke’s was Luke’s. “Did you change my sheets?”

Rey flushes. “Yeah,” she says. “I—I didn’t know how you’d feel about everything, so I figured that at least there wouldn’t be the memory of her when you came back.”

The memory of Bazine. Ben could laugh. As if this bed hadn’t been flooding him with memories of _Rey_ ever since they’d gotten here. Hell, he’s pretty sure these are the same sheets he’d spent that night eating her out on. He feels his cheeks flushing, feels his ears getting hot as he looks at Rey and blurts out—

“Why did you leave?”

“I’m sorry?”

“When we broke up. You said you needed space. Why? Why did you leave?” He wishes he didn’t sound as pathetic as he does, as close to tears. But it’s a lot having her here. And it’s good having her here. And when she goes it’ll be a punch to the gut like it was the first time—even though it shouldn’t be. Even though it should have stopped hurting years ago.

Rey closes her eyes, but even without her eyes open he can see how sad her face looks suddenly. She’s about to hurt him. She’s about to tell him something she hadn’t known how to say ten years ago. It’s about to be worse than Bazine almost hitting his kid. It’s about to be the worst thing that’s ever happened to him.

When she opens her eyes, there are tears there. “I don’t really remember,” she says and there’s despair in her voice. “I’ve been trying to—the past few weeks. To remember why. And I’m sure I had reasons, I’m sure I did. But all of them don’t feel…” she lets out a bitter laugh. “I was overwhelmed, I was scared—of being a parent, of letting you down. And maybe all of those were a bigger deal when I was twenty than they are now but…” there are actual tears on her face now as she looks at him. “It feels like the way it is with my parents, like there’s just some wall I can’t see through and the answer is on the other side, but I can’t get to it.  I’m hiding it from myself.” How clearly he remembers that conversation, holding Rey as she shuddered and cried and couldn’t break through the defenses her brain had built around itself. “I didn’t know how much I missed you until I was here, Ben. And I want the girls to be happy, I want that more than anything, but that’s not what’s made everything so hard because I know we’ll figure that out, I know we will it’s feeling like—like—”

Ben had spent the first few months after Rey had left him dreaming that she’d come back, that she’d beg him to take her back, that she’d sob and explain and regret and he’d hold her in his arms and just be glad she was there.

Ten years later, he realizes, he doesn’t want to hear it. He doesn’t want her to beg, he doesn’t want her to regret.

He wants her to _stay_.

So he sits down on the bed next to her and wraps his arms around her while she cries and he’s shaking too because he knows that all it will take is one wrong breath for one of them to fuck it up for good. They’re on a precipice right now, and he feels like he could either fall off a cliff or back to safety and he can’t even form a thought to help guide him.

But years of therapy have trained him that he shouldn’t let his fear of powerlessness dominate him—that he can communicate with words in a way that doesn’t have to challenge someone else to accept him, but rather—

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers. “And I thought—I thought it was just…I don’t know. I don’t know. I’ve just missed you. I don’t think I ever stopped loving you.”

Rey’s breathing is shaky. But she’s not asking for space, not pulling away from him in horror, in _no, that’s not what I’m trying to say._

No—when Rey reacts, it’s to nuzzle her face into his chest, and to tighten her hold on him and to murmur something not quite intelligible into his skin, but he thinks he hears the words _love_ and _you_.

 

-

 

Off come the old, ratty t-shirts. Off come the sleeping pants. Ben’s older now, and he’s not quite as ripped as he had been when he’d been closer to thirty than forty, but he’s not in bad shape at all. And Rey’s boobs are bigger than they were when they’d first met too, bigger from breastfeeding and she’d just put on some weight there. But she pushes those thoughts aside. The memories of younger versions of themselves—those aren’t there to haunt right now, not there to harm. Not when she’s here, and so is he, and her heart is thrumming in her chest like she’s running a mile.

Her arms twine around his neck as he kisses her, and Rey can’t remember the last time she’d been kissed like this—probably not since the last time she kissed Ben. His tongue is circling hers, his lips—his lips have always been soft, always been plump and hungry, but Rey loses herself in the feeling of his lips as he kisses her while his hands trail up and down her spine.

Maybe she shouldn’t already be sitting naked, straddling him. Or maybe they should be drawing this out. Maybe they should wait until they actually know what they’re doing. But Rey’s done with waiting, and grinds her hips against his, reaches down between them so that—as he gets harder and harder, it’s between their stomachs rather than underneath her, and she can rub her slit against him a little more easily.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about the last time we were in this bed,” he tells her breathlessly. “I couldn’t stop thinking about how you felt, how you tasted,” and his hands dip lower to squeeze her ass, his fingers brushing against her slit. It’s dripping now, and he groans and a moment later Rey is flat on her back her legs spread wide as Ben kisses his way down her chest, down her stomach until his lips are between her legs and if she’d forgotten how much she liked kissing him, she’d forgotten how much she liked _this_ too.

A moan rips out of her before she throws her arm over her mouth to stifle the noise.

Her daughters are in this house.

 _Leia_ is in this house.

And she wouldn’t be surprised if they hadn’t all been hoping that this would happen which leaves a strange combination of embarrassment and joy in her gut.

She doesn’t dwell on that now though, because it’s hard to dwell on anything with Ben’s tongue doing what Ben’s tongue has always done so well. He circles and dips and sucks and licks and Rey’s heart is racing in her chest as he goes and she reaches the arm that’s not thrown over her face to stifle her moans down to run her fingers through his hair, to tug it lightly because he’d always liked that and she’d known that he’d always liked that and he’s really just going down there, he doesn’t care that the last time she’d come close to grooming herself was probably before the girls were born. He just keeps licking, and licking, and he slides his tongue into her and curls it and she’d forgotten until just this moment how long his tongue is.

She’s going to die happy, she really is, happy and loved and Ben’s with her and she moves her arm so she can look down at him and she sees him looking back up at her, his eyes glowing through the darkness and Rey’s whole body trembles and the muscles of her vagina start to roll their way along Ben’s tongue and she has to bite down on her forearm again because she can’t remember the last time she’d come so hard that she’d been unable to control the noises she makes.

He watches her through her orgasm, his hands running along her thighs, and when she comes down from it he asks, “Can I?” in a tentative, breathless, almost boyish way that Rey can’t help but grin.

“I’m not on birth control,” she tells him.

“I’ll pull out.”

So she nods and Ben clambers up her, positions the tip of himself at her entrance before pressing in and his head falls forward, his eyes fluttering shut and he breathes out a quiet, “Fuck, Rey.”

She wraps her legs around his hips, pulling him as close as she can, pulling him into her, as deep as he’ll go, as if he’d never gone, as if she’d never pushed him away to begin with. She stretches around him, gloriously full for the first time in ages, and how right it feels to have him in her. She peppers the side of his face with kisses and squeezes him as tightly as she can.

He bites her shoulder as he humps against her, letting her body stifle his groans. She reaches up again and runs her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp, smiling because she knows that tomorrow when they wake up, they’ll have a moment of having to decide whether they care that his mom and uncle and Threepio and Artoo will know that they’ve had sex. She loves his hair. She loves how soft it is, how dark it is—even if it’s starting to go a bit grey.

She lifts her head up a little bit and sucks at his neck. He feels so good against her, inside her, sliding in and out like this. Her heart is racing again and she reaches her hand down between them to add some pressure to her clit and yes—just like that, yes, oh, “Ben,” she groans as she comes again and this time it’s his cock, not his tongue that her muscles roll against, pulling him deeper and deeper as she melts underneath him.

Then he’s gone from inside her, and he’s rocking his cock against the seam of her leg and her hip until he’s breathing hard and his cum splashes across her belly and he collapses onto her, mouthing more than kissing at her neck as he adjusts his weight so that he’s sort of half-on half-off her.

It feels safe, having Ben almost covering her like this. It feels like home. And Rey hasn’t felt this happy in a long while.

 

-

 

His mom has the most knowing look in the entire world when she finds him and Rey in the kitchen the next morning. It’s not like he’s trying to hide it. He’s got a love bite on the base of his neck, and his hair’s a fucking mess.

It _is_ enough for his mother to suggest that she and the girls ride with Artoo and Threepio back down to the city and Ben and Rey take the other car—a suggestion that delights both girls, who seem only too thrilled to leave their parents unchaperoned.

“I hope she’s not giving them unrealistic expectations,” Ben grumbles as they pull onto the highway.

“Like what?” Rey asks and he can hear the care in her question.

“Like that we’re getting married next week,” he says. He glances over to her and reaches for her hand, bringing it to his lips as he changes lanes before resting his right hand on the gearshift lazily. Rey covers his hand with hers and says, quietly,

“We haven’t even talked about what’s next for us.”

Because they hadn’t. Not beyond some post-sex sweet-talk about how happy they both were, and how they wanted this, wanted to try again. They hadn’t talked about New York and New Mexico, about his job and her farm.

Ben takes a deep breath. “I’ll need to get it sorted,” he begins slowly, “But I think it’s easier to find a place to practice law in Santa Fe than it is to move your farm to New York. Even if it means I might have to take the fucking bar again.”

The mere thought of that makes him almost shudder but the wistful hope that it might be worth it…well it’s enough. He watches her carefully out of the corner of his eye—watches as she goes still, as her breathing grows a bit labored. Then her hand tightens on his and she’s leaning over the center console to press a kiss to his cheek.

“On one condition,” he adds.

“Yeah?”

“You’re the one who has to tell my mother she’s going to have to fly across the country for Padme’s bat mitzvah.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come say hi on [tumblr](http://crossingwinter.tumblr.com/reylo) if you're interested! Also, I have a post with some [post-fic headcanons](https://shmisolo.tumblr.com/post/176499469667/can-you-now-tell-us-some-the-headcanos-you-have) because, while I didn't have enough to actually continue this with its own fic, I didn't really stop thinking about these goofballs.


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